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OVER THE SEAS FOR 
UNCLE SAM 




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Only the hits count!" 



OVER THE SEAS 
FOR UNCLE SAM 



By 

ELAINE STERNE 

Author of "The Road of Ambition/* "Sunny Jim" Stories, Etc. 



*'We're ready nowP' — Navy slogan. 



New York 
BRITTON PUBLISHING COMPANY 



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Copyright, 1918 
Britton Publishing Company. Inc. 



Made in U. S. A. All rights reserved. 



JUL 17 1918 J^y 






©Ci.A499740 



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To the Honorable Josephus Daniels 

Secretary of the Navy, 

whose devotion to the interests of the men in the 

American Navy has been an inspiration to them 

no less than to the nation as a whole. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Wherefore of My Little Book 11 

Sunk By a Submarine 21 

War Clouds Gather 35 

The Stuff Heroes Are Made Gp ..... . 49 

Depth Bombs and Destroyers . . . i . . . 61 

In Training s . . . 73 

Zeps and Torpedoes 91 

''The Leather Necks" 107 

The Way with the Frenchies ...;... 119 

A Yankee Stands By .......... 135 

A Taste of Hell 147 

The Wanderlust and the War . . . s ? . . 161 

Under the Red Crqss Banner . . s s s ^ . 175 

"Abandon Ship!'' ........ . . . 191 

Prisoners of War ........: w . . 209 

Fritz Gets Tagged ...... ^ : w .. . 221 

The Flower of France . • . • • . : • . . 233 



THE WHEREFOEE OF MY LITTLE BOOK 

We have learned some things in war times 
that we did not know in days of peace. We have 
made the amazing discovery that our own fathers 
and brothers and husbands and lovers are poten- 
tial heroes. We loiew they were brave and strong 
and eager to defend ns if need be. We knew 
that they went to work in the morning and re- 
turned at night just so that we might live in com- 
fort; but we never dreamed that the day would 
come when we would see them marching oif to 
war — a war that would take them far from their 
own shores. We never dreamed that, like the 
knights of old, they would ride away on a quest 
as holy as that of the Crusaders. 

As for army and navy life — ^it had always been 
a sealed book to us, a realm into which one was 
born, a heritage that passed from father to son. 
We heard of life at the army post. We saw a 
uniform now and then, but not until our own 

II 



12 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

men donned khaki and blue did we of the outside 
world learn of the traditions of the army and of 
the navy, which dated back to the days of our 
nation's birth. 

We did not know that each regiment had its 
own glorious story of achievement — a story which 
all raw recruits were eager to live up to — a story 
of undaunted fighting in the very face of death 
that won for it its sobriquet. 

Because the army lay at our very door, we came 
to know it better, to learn its proud lesson more 
swiftly, but little by little the navy, through the 
lips of our men, unlocked its traditions, tenderly 
fostered, which had fired its new sons to go forth 
and fight to the finish rather than yield an inch. 

As a first lieutenant in the Girls' National 
Honor Guard, I was appointed in May, 1917, for 
active duty in hospital relief work. It was then 
that I came to know Miss Mary duBose, Chief 
Nurse of the United States Naval Hospital, whose 
co-operation at every turn has helped this little 
volume to come into being. 

The boys of the navy are her children. She 



The Wherefore of My Little Book 13 

watches over them with the brooding tenderness 
of a mother. Praise of their achievements she 
receives with flashing pride. "With her entire 
heart and soul she is wrapped np in her work. 
Through her shines the spirit of the service — 
the tireless devotion to duty. 

I had never before been inside a naval hos- 
pital. I had a vague idea that it would be a great 
machine, rather overcrowded, to be sure, in war 
times, but running on oiled hinges — completely 
soulless. 

I found instead a huge building, which, in spite 
of its size, breathed a warm hominess. Its halls 
and wards are spotless. Through the great win- 
dows the sun pours in on the patients, as cheery 
a lot of boys as you would care to see. 

There are always great clusters of flowers in 
the wards — bright spots of color — there are al- 
ways games spread out on the beds. There is 
always the rise of young voices — laughter — calls. 
And moving among the patients are the nurses — 
little white-clad figures with the red cross above 
their heart. Some of them appear frail and flower- 



14 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

like, some of them very young, but all impress one 
with their quiet strength and efficiency. 

I have spoken to a great many of them. They 
are enthusiastic and eager. They praise highly 
the splendid work done abroad by their sisters, 
but they are serious about the work to be done 
here as well. Their tasks are carried on with no 
flaunting of banners, but they are in active service 
just the same, nursing our boys to health every 
hour of the day — giving sons back to their 
mothers — ^husbands to their wives. 

It is a corps to be proud of and a great volume 
of credit should be laid at the feet of Mrs. Leneh 
Higbee, the national head of the Naval Nurse 
Corps. It was Mrs. Higbee who built up the 
Corps — ^who has given her life's work to keep- 
ing up the standard of that organization — of mak- 
ing it a corps whose personnel and professional 
standing in efficiency cannot be surpassed in the 
world to-day. 

As my visits to the hospital became more fre- 
quent, I began, bit by bit, to gather a story here 
and there, from the men who lay ill — stories of 



The Wherefore of My Little Booh 15 

nnconscious heroism — deeds they had performed 
as part of a day's work on the high seas. 

They did not want praise for what they had 
done. They are an independent lot — our sailors — 
proud of their branch of service. **No drafted 
men in the navy," they tell you with a straight- 
ening of their shoulders. 

And from the officers I learned of that deeper 
love — that worship of the sea — of the vessel 
placed in their hands to command. From them 
I heard for the first time of the value of a dis- 
cipline iron-bound — rigid — a discipline that 
brooks no argument. There were stories of men 
who had hoped and dreamed all their lives of a 
certain cruise, only to find themselves transferred 
to the other end of the world. Did they utter a 
word of complaint? Not they! ** Orders are 
orders" — that was enough for them! 

And because those of us who send our men to 
sea are burning to know the tales they have to 
tell, I have made this little collection— the men's 
own stories, told in the ward to other round- 
eyed youths who gathered about the bed to hear, 



16 O ver the Seas for Uncle Sam 

full of eager questions, prompting when the story 
moved too slowly. 

What you read here are their stories — stories 
of whole-souled youths, with the sparkle of life 
in their eyes, with the love of adventure in their 
hearts. Jack Tar is an American clear through 
to his backbone! 

Elaine Sterne. 

New York, . 
May 15, 1918. 




Jack is his own *' chambermaid. " 



JACK TAB 

We're not long on recitation, 

We're just rough and ready gobs, 

But we rate ten gadgets higher 

Than some smug civilian snobs. 

When we're out on well-earned shore leave 

Drummin' up a little cheer, 

Oh, we meet sleek city dandies 

Who object to sailors here. 

They are togged in pretty shirts 

Like a lady on parade, 

And they wouldn't touch a sailor 

With a hoe or with a spade. 

We may not be ornamental 

In the tinselled dancing halls, 

When the nation needs defenders 

We are there when duty calls. 

Though we can't hob-nob with laggards; 

Who sleep in sheltered bed 

And we can't enjoy peace pleasures, 

We can join the hero dead. 



17 



\ 



CHIEF GUNNER BLAKE 
SPEAKS : 



SUNK BY SUBMARINE 

Somewhere along in January, 1915, I shipped 
on the U. S. S. Utah, Always had a hankering 
after the sea, and then, to tell the truth, civilian 
jobs were pretty hard to land in 1915 — ^you bet 
they were ! 

Once you're in the Navy you stay for a while. 
I liked it from the start. I got to know a thing 
or two about the guns, went to gunnery school; 
that's how I came to be made chief gunner's mate, 
I guess, and told to report for armed guard duty 
on May 29, 1917. 

I drew an old tub. I suppose it had been used 
to carry a cargo of salt fish from Maine to New- 
foundland, and here it was, painted fresh, and 
ready to cross the old Atlantic, which was fairly 
bristling with mines and lurking sea-devils. 

21 



22 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

We pnt to sea Jnne 19th, and we reached the 
War Zone on Jnly 3rd. I know what I'm doing, 
writing War Zone with capitals. You don't have 
to be told when yon get there. You feel it in the 
air — ^it's like a wire vibrating; everyone's on 
edge, keyed up to G pitch. 

It was my job to see that all lights were doused 
and all ports closed as soon as it got dark. I 
wasn't particular about the way I enforced orders 
just so I got them obeyed — and I saw to it that 
every man who carried a match was parted from 
it and that all pocket lights were put in a neat 
little pile — officers excepted, of course. They kept 
theirs. 

Every hour I made a round of the ship, watch- 
ing out sharp for a light. Important ! Say, just 
suppose Fritz's sea-baby were IjHLng off a few 
miles or so without the faintest idea that a mer- 
chantman, chuck-full of munitions, was a stone's 
throw away. Think how that German crew would 
feel if across the darkness they saw the flare of a 
match. Well, it would be apt to be lights out for 
ns all that time — that's what. 



Sunk hy Submarine 23 



The watch was doubled — four on and four off — 
a watch of good sixteen hours at a clip, with a 
life preserver on every minute of the time — ^that 
is, you were supposed to. On the transports the 
rule is carried out to the letter. Catch a man 
without a life belt and he can be pretty sure he '11 
be up for court-martial when he gets back to port. 

But with us it was different. We kept them 
close by; some of the men slept in them. I had 
mine over my feet ready to snatch up in case of 
trouble. 

It was July 3rd, remember, and we were feeling 
pretty good. My bunky was McCaffrey — Mac for 
short — a little red-headed, freckled Irishman from 
Wisconsin, the best that comes west of the Mis- 
sissippi. We had it aU fixed up to fire a gun off 
on the Fourth. 

*'Sure, it's a fine opinion Fritz '11 have of us if 
he's thinkin' we're scared to let him know it's 
our big day back home," he argued. 

I thought it was a great idea — I told him I'd 
stand by if he'd share the blame. Of course we 
knew darned well we'd never really pull it off, 



24 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

but it was good fnn planning the whole thing just 
the same. 

The sea was calm that night, for a wonder — ^just 
a gentle swell. "We were on watch at eight, all on 
good lookout. Orders were to stand by, and the 
guns were primed, ready to shoot red hell into any- 
thing short of an ally. 

I wish we could have had a close-up of us. 
Faces grim, tense from excitement, joking a bit 
under our breaths, wishing to Moses we could have 
a smoke, betting we'd get through without sight- 
ing anything better than our own reflection in the 
water. 

Somehow we felt peppy. I guess it was think- 
ing about the Fourth and what it stood for. 
Seemed queer to be in mid-ocean on the night be- 
fore the Declaration of Independence was signed 
— ^yep, in the middle of a blooming black sea, with 
nothing in sight but a dash of white foam against 
your keel, where you cut along through a swell. 

I'd just glanced at my radium watch and blessed 
the girl who gave it to me. It was nine. I glanced 
up. Not fifty yards away was a ribbon of white 



Sunk by Submarine 25 



foam flung out on the water like a scarf, and, 
sticking straight out, by God, was the periscope of 
a German submarine. 

No one waited for the command, '^Fire when 
ready. ..." 

The ship was action electrified. I never saw 
a crew work like that. They fired point-blank and 
sent that periscope straight up to where all good 
periscopes go. Eipped her clean off. 

We weren't sure we'd sunk her, but we figured 
we had. How did we feel? How do you think? 
That was celebrating the Fourth right and 
proper ! 

Mac, sweating like a horse, panting from ex- 
citement, managed to breeze by and chuckle. 

** Didn't I tell you we'd shoot one off to show 
'em who's who?" 

It was a great night. We were heroes. We 
had knocked the stuffings out of a periscope; it 
stood to reason we'd sunk her. 

We figured out how it happened. The subma- 
rine, when she was Vay out on the horizon line, 
must have seen us coming. She had evidently 



26 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

made a long detonr, plotting onr conrse and plan- 
ning to arrive where she conld take good aim and 
fire. What happened was that we changed onr 
course, so that when she popped np she was 
plmnb across onr bow. Surprised ! Wow ! I bet 
her commander, if he's alive, hasn't closed his 
mouth yet ! 

It was something like this : 

- "^ i 

/' 

Well, we pretty well patted ourselves on the 
back, but German submarines must travel in pairs, 
like rattlesnakes, or else she came back to life, 
for an hour later she struck us amidships. 

You know it when you're struck. Rather ! The 
crash — ^the roar — the tremendous vibration — for 
a full minute, as the big hulk trembles and shud- 
ders — ^the hiss of water rushing into the boilers, 



Sunk hy Submarine 27 

the steam gushing, the sudden listing, and, worst 
of all, the throb of the engines silenced. . . . 

Yon never forget that silence, felt rather than 
heard. It means yon 're a goner for fair. Above 
all the orders, rapped out like the clip of a ham- 
mer on steel — that noisy silence sounds loudest in 
your ears. 

*^ Stand by your guns. ..." Sure we did. 
While there was still a chance we wanted to get 
a whack at that sub., but all the time I was worry- 
ing about Mac. He was taking a watch off. Could 
I reach him? 

*^ . . Get back, you damned fools. ..." 

". . . Man the life-boats!" 

**. . . Gee, that's a close one! Look spry or 
you'll wash overboard. ..." 

We didn't leave our post until the last life-boat 
swung clear and landed with her crew. A couple 
of boats had been smashed against the side of 
the ship and we heard the yells of their crew — 
nasty sound, that. 

I forgot about my life-belt — I wanted to find 
Mac. I couldn't. It was pitch black. The water 



28 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

was waist deep and washing over yon in gigantic 
waves. There was only one chance — to jnmp for 
it. I took it. I landed near the propellers. I 
could hear them churning fiercely — I could feel 
their suction drawing me to them. I guess I 
fought like a fiend. I'd heard about the death 
men die drawn into that blasted hole the ship 
makes when she goes down to Davy Jones. 

I didn't think of home. I didn't think of my 
past sins. I just thought with every ounce of my 
strength that if I could keep swimming for a few 
seconds more I could be clear of that undertow. 
I made it. 

All around me men were calling for help. I 
made out a life-boat a few yards away and hol- 
lered to them, and just then an oar floated by. 

I never was so glad to see anything in my life. 
I rested on it and caught another. Two oars! 
Why, it was as good as a raft. I was safe — ^if 
only I could find McCaffrey in that black hell. 

I yelled his name and heard a sputter behiud 
me. 

**For God's sake, save me " 



Sunh by Submarine 29 

*'Caii't you swim?" 

''Stay where yon are; I'll get yon." 

It was Spick, one of the oilers — a big chap, 
weighing a good one-ninety. 

''Steady! I'm coming." 

He grabbed the oar and lay across it, a dead 
weight. Someone else pnlled me down. 

"Help!" 

It was little Tucker, mess attendant, a kid of 
seventeen. He was all in. I shoved them both 
along, and they were heavy, let me tell you. Some- 
one in the boat saw us and drew alongside. They 
lifted us in. 

"Where's McCaffrey?" I asked them. 

Just then I saw him. He was swimming 
straight for us. I let out a yell, but it died in my 
throat. 

Straight out of the water, not twenty yards 
away, rose the gray bulk of the submarine, its 
greenish light casting a weird glow over that aw- 
ful scene of struggling men. Fritz's war-baby 
had come back to gloat over the damage it had 
done. 



30 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

Our captain, with Ms pocket light, was flashing 
the Morse code on the water as he flonndered 
about. 

From the deck of the submarine the command- 
er's voice rang out. He spoke as good English as 
I do. 

'^What ship have I hit!" 

Someone told him. 

* ' Wliere is your captain 1 ' ' 

Silence. 

''Where is your captain?" 

Then it was that little Tucker, sitting forward, 
tense, leaned far out and yelled : 

^'Douse yer glim, Cap, douse yer glim. ..." 

Out it went. The commander gave an order. 
"We couldn't hear it, but we were afraid he meant 
to make straight for us and cut us in two. We 
pulled away, but, instead, he was wishing us the 
best of luck to lie there and rot, and then they 
submerged — just vanished into the black water 
from which they had appeared. 

We waited trembling, but nothing happened. 
There wasn't a boat in sight. The old hulk of 



Sunk by Submarine 31 

our ship had gone down forever. I thought of 
the Captain and of McCaffrey. 

* ^ Let 's get 'em now, mates, ' ' I urged. But from 
the direction in which we'd last heard them there 
came no sound. They weren't there. Nobody 
was. So we pulled away. 

It was a leaky boat and we stripped off our 
shirts — anything we had on that was white, so that 
in case Fritz came back he could not sight us. We 
needed the shirts, all right, to stuff up the holes 
in the boat. Those who weren't stopping up the 
holes took turns bailing. We bailed like fiends — 
no time to think — ^no time for anything but to 
hope a convoy would pick us up. 

Along toward dawn, at six-thirty to be exact, 
our own convoy sighted us. The boys were 
pretty stiff from exposure, but I was all right — 
all right and fighting mad — ^my matey had gone 
down. 

' * I '11 get that Kaiser, ' ' I told them. And I wiU, 
too. That 's why I 'm shipping on a destroyer next. 
I'll get that Kaiser, see if I don't. 




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CHIEF PETTY OFFICEE WILSON 
SPEAKS: 



WAR CLOUDS GATHER 

The French are a whole lot different from us — 
more easy-going-like. They make their money 
and spend it free. I like that about them. Not 
like some people I know who won't let go of a 
nickel once they gets a death grip on it. 

Well, say, when we was anchored at Villef ranche 
we come to know a thing or two about the 
Frenchies. Villefranche is just over the hill from 
Nice — a. nice jaunt of a couple of miles or so, or 
if youVe a mind to, you can take a little car that 
gets you there before you know it. 

Nice is on the style of Atlantic City. If you ask 
me, I like Atlantic City better, but then that's be- 
cause they speak United States there. Still Nice 
has a great bathing beach — ^you have to hand it 
to them — and you get so you like them little tables 
set out in front of the cafes, where they **parlez- 
vous" with each other and drink quarts of red 
ink. 

35 



36 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

We 'd hike over to Nice every shore leave. Some 
of the crew went as far as Monte Carlo, but not 
me. I was satisfied. Besides, one place was as 
sporty as the other, if that was what yon wanted. 
They was chnck-fnll of what the French call the 
*'joie de vie,'' which in Yankee means 'Aplenty of 
pep" — ^that's it. 

Yon always felt happy there and the people 
was great! Didn't seem to take nothing serious 
— ^the Frenchies don't, in peace times. The 
women had a twinkle in their eye and a kind of 
sparkle abont them, and the men said pretty 
things and twirled their canes — oh, they was a 
cheerful lot, all right. 

Eemember, all this was before the war. It was 
Angnst. Hot. Still. Can't you see it? The sea, 
where our boat lay at anchor, calm as glass and 
blue as a turquoise. The sand along the beach, 
snow white. 

It was a Saturday, and we had a forty-eight, 
which took us ashore at ten in the morning. 
Didn't want to miss no time on land. The day 
was so fine that we decided to foot it into town. 



War Clouds Gather 37 

( 
Everything was green and growing and smelled 

good. We took our time and ambled into Nice 

long about chow. The minute we hit that port I 

knew for sure something was up. 

Oh, don't think there hadn't been war talk fly- 
ing about. Sure there had, but, except for a gen- 
eral uneasiness, you wouldn't know nothing was 
doing. The Frenchies are like that — they don't 
hunt trouble, but when it comes — oh, boy! They 
sure are right there! 

We seen little groups of folks standing talking 
together. The shop keepers had left their shops, 
and joined the crowds on the street. They was 
waving their hands — ^they are great on that — 
everyone speaking at once. We come up close and 
listened. What we heard certainly made our ears 
ring ! 

War ! France was going to declare war on Ger- 
many! Queer how that black cloud seemed to 
change the whole complexion of that little sun- 
soaked town. I'd never seen the natives look like 
that before. There was a little old woman who 
kept a fruit stand— figs and peaches and what-not. 



38 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

She always had a grin for ns fellows when we 
passed. She and her granddaughter. The grand- 
daughter was a pretty girl — ^her cheeks was as 
red as the side of the jyeaches and she had black 
eyes and hair. They was always ready to swap 
a **bon jour" with us— but not today. The old 
lady was minding the stand alone. She looked 
kind of white — no smile — ^no wave of her hand. 
She told me her granddaughter had gone to the 
square where the bulletins was being posted. We 
beat it over. 

It was about three; no, I guess it was four, 
before the big crowds began to gather in the 
square. Up to that time there had been little 
groups drifting here and there, but by four the 
wagons had stopped at the corners, their drivers 
had climbed down from the seats and pushed their 
way into the mob, and the tram-car conductors 
and motormen just left their cars wherever they 
happened to shut off power, and shoved their way 
in for a view of the bulletins. 

I tell you, that little town was at fever heat! 
Excitement? Say, nothing beats a Frenchie at 



War Clouds Gather 39 

that! IVe seen a lot of things in my time, but 
it certainly gave me a qneer feeling in the pit of 
my stomach to realize just what those bulletins 
meant. It kind of got you to see that little pleas- 
ure city so dead serious all at once. 

Everyone in Nice was in that crowd — rich man, 
poor man, beggar man, thief. The ladies from 
the Riviera, in their silks and satins — ^the trades- 
people — ^the poor — all fighting for a view of the 
words flashed on the boards. 

Someone yelled, *^Vive la France! Vive la 
France!" and a thousand voices caught it up un- 
til it rose and swelled like the roar of the combers 
in a storm. 

We had seen Nice quiet and peaceful and 
pretty — ^we saw a different Nice from that mo- 
ment. They didn't waste no time. They began 
calling in the reserves. Do you know how they 
done it? Why, they'd simply gather them up as 
they went along the street. From buildings and 
shops and hotels and huts they poured — ^boys for 
the most part — some pulling on a coat and button- 
ing it as they ran, and women following them, 



40 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

always women — sweethearts and mothers — ^look- 
ing puzzled and dazed by it all, font never hold- 
ing the boys back — ^not they! 

I never seen fellows mnstered in that qnick. 
The streets were choked with men — sharp orders 
rang ont, and the blare of trumpets and rolling 
of drums. Say, I had to pinch myself to be sure 
I wasn't dreaming it! You read about such 
things, but you never expect to see them with your 
own two eyes ! 

Some few men had uniforms or parts of uni- 
forms. Some carried old swords their fathers had 
fought with before them. Some of them sang as 
they marched to their barracks, arm in arm. Some 
broke away and ran ahead, calling to a pal, stop- 
ping to speak with an old friend. And always, 
lined up on either side of the street, was the rav- 
ing, crazy mob that cheered them, flinging up their 
hats and waving handkerchiefs. 

Outside the cafes, at the little tables, wine was 
flowing like water. One glass after another flung 
down with a toast to France. They didn't stop 
at that. I seen a little girl spring up on a table 



War Clouds Gather 41 

and hold her glass high; all the folks at nearby 
tables jumped to their feet, cheering her. I 
couldn't hear what she said, but suddenly she 
straightened up and began singing the ^* Marseil- 
laise." Lord! The whole town caught up the 
tune — it came from everywhere. Women in open 
windows above the street, leaning way out over 
the sills, sang it ; children in the street piped up ; 
there wasn't no one too young or too old to 
join in. 

The boys marching by grinned at her as they 
shouted it, and she waved to them. 

At a crossing I caught sight of our little old 
woman. She was shelling out all the fruit on her 
stand to the boys as they passed. The tears was 
rolling down her cheeks, but she smiled at them 
just the same. 

I didn't see her granddaughter until some time 
later; then I found her with a fellow who was 
dragging on his uniform coat and talking to her 
at the same time. She helped him fasten it, her 
eyes on his face. I never seen anyone look so hard 
at a man — as if she could eat him up with her eyes. 



42, Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

.When he left her she stood staring after him. I 
wormed my way in through the crowd mitil I got 
alongside of her and I took her arm, but she didn't 
seem to know I was there. 

Bulletins was flashed every few minutes. No 
sooner would one get posted up than they would 
tear it down to make room for another. Above 
the roar of voices rang out the call to arms, and 
always from no place in particular men and men 
and men came pouring, keen to get into the Big 
Scrap. 

You couldn't take a train if you wanted to. 
Everything was commandeered for the '^mili* 
tary," as they call it over there. 

The sun went down and the street lamps began 
to wink at you and still the excitement raged. Bul- 
letins — crowds — trumpets — ^voices — soldiers arriv- 
ing from Monte Carlo and a new set of cheers for 
them. No sleep for nobody, just moving through 
the packed streets listening to a snatch of conver- 
sation here and a snatch there. 

And every passenger coach and freight train 
jammed with soldiers on their way to the concen- 



War Clouds Gather 43 

tration camp. Those who had any, wore the old 
French uniform — you know, the red pants and 
blue coats — ^great colors, but say, what cruel tar- 
gets for Boche bullets they turned out to be ! 

Next day the cry went up for horses — they 
needed horses, and they got them. That's the 
Frenchies' spirit for you. Nothing is too much 
to do for their beloved country. Every farmer 
with a four-legged animal drove into Nice and 
gave him up gladly, and what's more brought in 
all his garden produce for the boys. 

It was like a horse mart. I never seen so many 
sweating, rearing, stamping brutes. One farmer 
drove in a little blind mare he'd raised from a 
colt. Eummiest horse I ever seen. Wind-broke, 
with a coat that looked like the moths got into it. 
the old man seemed pretty fond of her, for he 
talked to her considerable before he parted from 
her. He didn't pay no attention to the crowd 
looking on, only he just kept whispering in her ear 
and stroking her nose. After a while he turned 
her over to the officer in charge. 

**I have explained to my friend that she must 



44 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



fight for France and she has said in that case she 
is willing to go," he told them in French. They 
took her, too, and he hiked back a dozen miles or 
so without another word. 

Once on the ship again, we laid in the harbor 
at Villefranche for a week, bnt from the deck you 
could see the little seaport town and that line of 
men that wound over the hill — tramping — ^tramp- 
ing toward the sunset — thousands of them — an 
endless stream. 

"We went to Gibralter. Just to let you know how 
particular them British ships had become let me 
tell you that they halted us at sea one night and 
made us run up our colors. They weren't taking 
no chances. 

We laid there another week — ^no liberty — ^noth- 
ing. We knew then we was in the War Zone. 
The gates were down and only the French and 
English allowed in. You couldn't even coal your 
ship, and what was more, we were in direct line 
of fire from the British guns behind us. We 
heaved a sigh as we started down to Tangiers, 
Morocco. 



War Clouds Gather 45 

Some contrast! No excitement — ^no faintest 
Lint of a war. Just a dirty Arab town with streets 
so narrow your shoulders graze the walls on either 
side. Dirt and flies and beggars. 

We was burning up for news — ^we went crazy 
tied up there a month. Then we went home and 
learned what was happening. We heard about 
Verdun and the Kaiser promising to make Paris 
by Christmas and all such rot. 

Folks asked us what we thought of the war. I 
used to say, ^^If you want to know m^/ opinion, I 
think the sooner we lend those Frenchies a hand 
the better!'' and that's just what we're doing — 
at last ! 

You get so you love them if you stay around 
them awhile. They're so happy and cheerful, but 
when there's business to be done you can't put 
nothing over on them! I won't never forget that 
old fellow and his bliQd mare. Gee ! How he did 
hate to part from her! But that didn't stop him 
from doing it. But then that's Frenchies for you 
— ^nothing is too much . . . ! 



COMMANDER WOODMAN 
iSPEAKS: 



THE STUFF HEROES ARE MADE OF 



HONOR MEDAL FOR U. S. SAILOR 

FIRST AWARD GOES TO OHIO MAN WHO SAVED 
BALLOON PILOT 

Washington, Nov. 12. — The first naval medal of honor 
awarded during the present war was announced by 
Secretary Daniels to-day as the reward of Dennis 
O'Hara, who rescued the pilot of a kite balloon which 
was struck by a squall in the submarine zone. 

The balloon was being used for observation purposes 
by a United States cruiser. The pilot was saved by 
O 'Hara from the submerged basket of the balloon. 

When is a hero not a hero? Do yon know, if 
there is any one thing this war has proved to 
all of us, it is the fact that every man jack of ns 
has a large and totally nnsnspected slice of conr- 
age tucked away within him somewhere. We 
never used to think so. We used to suppose that 

49 



50 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

the ability to be brave in the face of death was a 
great gift granted only to a chosen few. 

Do yon remember wondering how snch heroes 
came to be born as the men of the *^ Light Bri- 
gade," who rode without a quiver straight into 
the jaws of hell? We read in onr history books 
of Perry and Farragut, or we heard the veterans 
of the battles of Lake Erie and Mobile Bav tell 
the stirring tales. I used to suspect that these 
men, whose names went ringing down the halls of 
time, were of different stuff somehow — a sort of 
super-caliber — ^I never thought to see the day 
when the greatest deeds of fearlessness, of self- 
sacrifice, would be performed on the field of 
honor by the butchers and bakers and candlestick- 
makers of this country. 

Take a clerk who has toiled at his desk for ten 
long years. He is afraid of death because he has 
time to be, but close up his books and dry his pen 
and let him join the army or navy — ^build him up 
— make his white blood red and send him on a 
destroyer or order him over the toj) — afraid of 
death! not much he isn't! — too intent on launch- 



The Stuff Heroes Are Made of 51 

ing a depth charge or sniping a Hun to think 
about it. 

Besides, once you get used to the idea that every 
minute may be your last you don't seem to mind 
it. You rather relax and you don't worry; you 
obey orders and stand by — and you are deter- 
mined to be as game as the next fellow when the 
Great Call comes. 

Heroism is a large word for all this. It is just 
a part of the day's work. That's what I like best 
about the youngsters in this war who have done 
deeds of bravery that can stand up beside any 
acts performed in the days gone by. They are 
indignant if you praise them. Yes, they are. 
They tell you impatiently that what they have 
done anyone else would do. Perhaps it is true. 
I guess so. But you have to let it go at that. 
They won't stand your making much of them. 
Not by a long shot. 

Take the case of the boy on our ship. He was 
a capable chap, who went about his duties with- 
out attracting a bit of attention. Just one of 
those splendid cogs in the war machine — a Chief 



52 Over the Seas for Uncle Sa7n 

Petty Officer, who wasn't looking for glory or 
honor medals, but was just doing his job to the 
best of his ability. 

Our trip over had been without thrills, unless 
you work up one on your own by wondering how 
it happens with the number of ships at sea minus 
a light there are so very few collisions. That 
always interested me. I remember one black 
night when we were shipping seas over the fo'- 
ca'sle that were sending sprays to the bridge. 
The darkness hung about us like a velvet cur- 
tain. As far as we knew we were the one and 
only bark afloat on the whole Atlantic, and yet 
when dawn broke, we sighted a convoy going east. 
If it hadn't been for pure Yankee luck she might 
have been in the same latitude as we were. Had 
the meeting come a few hours earlier or our 
course been a trifle different the results might 
never have been told. 

But that is side-stepping my story, isn't it? 
We had an observation balloon attached to our 
ship, which we flew with considerable success dur- 
ing the first part of the voyage. We were near- 



The Stujf H eroes Are Made of 53 

ing the point where we expected to join the ves- 
sels sent out from France to meet ns, and as the 
captain wanted the balloon to be aloft that morn- 
ing, she was sent up a good bit earlier than usual. 

It was a squally, rainy morning — the sort you 
expect in the North Atlantic. The sea was rough, 
and I suppose we were making about thirteen 
and a half knots. There was considerable wind 
on our starboard bow. 

In the balloon basket was a young officer. He 
understood managing the big bag, so we sent him 
up about a thousand feet. We passed through a 
rain squall and the balloon rode that tip-top. He 
telephoned to the officers below that he'd like fo 
stay up for a while as the wind seemed to be 
dropping. 

About a half-hour later we entered another 
rain squall. It was a nipping cold one — far colder 
than the first. The combination of chilled rain 
and strong wind was too much for the balloon. 
First thing we knew the bag had crumpled up like 
a crushed-in derby. And, before you could say 
**Jack Kobinson," down she flashed like a shot, 



54 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



her buoyancy gone, and the little basket sus- 
pended about fifty feet below her, riding the crest 
of the big waves like a tub. 

Inside the basket, busy as the busiest bee that 
ever came out of a hive, was that young officer, 
throwing out ballast as fast as the good Lord 
and his right arm would let him. 

It had the desired effect. Up rose the balloon, 
until it climbed to about five hundred feet, but 
with its ballast gone it was like a kite mthout a 
tail — a wild balloon at the mercy of the wind. 
That was a sight you did not soon forget! All 
hands were on deck staring up with bated breath 
— a few tried to shout advice, but the gale 
'drowned out their voices and the boy in the bas- 
ket was far too busy hanging on for his life to 
heed us. 

The facts of the case were that he was vir- 
tually a prisoner, with the ropes so twisted about 
the basket, as it swung on high in its fantastic 
dance of death, that he could not have saved him- 
self if he would. We didn't get onto that at first. 
We rather expected to see him shoot like a pro- 



The Stuff Heroes Are Made of 55 



jectile through the air. It certainly seemed to us 
that he must be the one exception to the law of 
gravitation, for by all rights he should have been 
hurled earthward at least a hundred times by that 
careening, dipping kite. And as it swung and 
lunged and turned over on itself in wild contor- 
tions it reminded me of a mad beast tugging fran- 
tically at its leash to be free. 

There was only one chance of saving him and 
that chance was a small one against the almost 
certain sacrifice of many lives. To stop the ship 
was the one chance, but a ship with engines dead 
in the war zone is a first-class target for the subs, 
and I can tell you that any man with the respon- 
sibility of hundreds of lives on his shoulders is 
loathe to give the order. But the sight of that 
pitching, rearing devil, with its fragile cargo — one 
human life — ^was a sight no man could well resist, 
and the captain finally gave the order to slow 
down. 

We went aft. The balloon hung over our port 
quarter, and, as we drew it toward the ship, we 
got hold of a trailing line from the nose of the 



56 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

bag. The big kite came docilely enough, as 
though it were tired of the game it had been play- 
ing and was sorry for the damage it had done. 
Bnt the basket, with the man inside, was in the 
water, half submerged and in great danger of go- 
ing down before help could possibly reach him. 

Now here is where the hero part of the story 
comes in. It was so quietly done that we did not 
know, until we saw a man flash over the side of 
the ship and down one of the basket lines, that a 
rescue was being attempted. 

The ship still had headway and the sea was 
running high, neither of which argued well for 
any chap trying to save a human being caught fast 
in a maze of rope. 

The basket was three-quarters submerged. The 
boy inside was played out and could offer no help, 
bnt the C. P. 0., clinging fast to his bobbing goal, 
went to work with his knife and a singleness 
of purpose that no mere raging sea could 
shake. He hacked away at the imprisoning ropes, 
his teeth clenched, and at last crawled into the 
basket and got a bowline under the officer ^s 



The Stuff Heroes Are Made of 57 

shoulders. We hoisted him aboard, and while 
we were doing it, the C. P. 0. clambered up to the 
rail, where eager hands drew him over. 

But he did not want our praise. It embar- 
rassed him. What he wanted most of all was to 
get into dry clothes and to go about his duties. 
Hero! He grinned at the word. Just the same, 
that is what he was — a real American boy with 
steady nerves and quick eye and plenty of pluck. 
Oh, yes, there are lots of heroes at large these 
days, but they do hate like the very dickens to 
have you call them that to their face. 



CHIEF YEOMAN LANG 
SPEAKS : 



DEPTH BOMBS AND DESTROYERS 

Eight years is a long time in the service. Bnt 
it pays. Yep. Even if I never draw a commis- 
sion I'll get a pension of one-third my full pay 
after another eight years, and if I stay in for 
thirty years, all told, I'll pull down over a hun- 
dred dollars a month for the rest of my days — 
me — just a chief yeoman. Now, that's not bad, 
is it? 

I've seen quite some service. You know about 
that little party at Vera Cruz last year? I was 
right there in the front row. I've always been 
ready for a scrap provided they gave me destroyer 
duty. Nothing else goes with me. Once you get 
used to the feel of that rolling deck under your 
feet you can't be happy on any other bark afloat! 

There is nothing speedier or lighter on the 
high seas. She will ride the waves like a bottle 
that's corked up. Not following the trough of the 
swell like a man o' war, but bobbing right over 

6i 



62 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



the white caps or burying her nose deep in the 
water as she cuts through. 

. . . And spray! Say! If it wasn't for the 
shield around the fo'c'stle-gun, you'd swim to 
Europe. As it is the combers sweep the deck in 
rough weather like a young Niagara. High boots 
help you some, but the only way to guarantee 
keeping a good man aboard is to lash him to the 
gun. 

There is a temporary shelter for the gun crew 
in the pilot house, but say, when the waves get too 
sassy the gunners aren't ashamed to rig up a line 
which they hold on to pretty tight let me tell you, 
as they stand by. 

Greatest sport in the world to have an ice-cold 
spray breaking over your deck. Yes, and freez- 
ing so hard you have to take a hatchet and chop 
it. You never are entirely dry, and you're never 
sure each minute won't be your last. But, say, 
you wouldn't change places with a commander on 
the biggest warship afloat! 

Queer, how you come to love the bobbing little 
devil. I guess it's human nature. The more can- 



Depth Bombs and Destroyers 63 



tankerous a proposition is the more you like to 
handle it. And salt water doesn't hurt you any. 
Good for you. Don't they give you salt baths 
and charge you a stiff price? Well, we get the 
treatment free. Pretty soft, I call it. 

We had a great crew. I was chief yeoman, with 
a job of clerk, and in time of action I had to work 
the range-finder. I was pretty busy, but I did 
have time to ring in a few laughs at the ship's 
pet. He was a Swede — Ole Hjalmar, and big! 
Say, he was eight feet high — or, an3rway, six-two, 
with a voice like a bull. He was mostly ears, 
and he had blond hair and high cheek bones. His 
face was red from the high winds. It browns 
mine, but it made him look like a ripe tomato. 

He hated his pink cheeks. We used to guy him 
about them, but most of all we made fun of the 
big gold rings in his ears, and say, I don't think 
there was a square inch of him that wasn't tat- 
tooed — stars and pigs and anchors and eagles all 
over him! 

Education didn't bother him any. The only 
writing he did in the twenty years' service was to 



64 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

sign his name to his pay checks. But he was 
always ready with a laugh. He was boatswain's 
mate and his job was official scrubwoman and then 
when an officer gave command he had to pass the 
word. 

I remember one day we were expecting to make 
port that afternoon. It was wash-day and as we 
changed our course it happened that the clothes 
we had hung out in the sun to dry found them- 
selves in the shade. Our bags were still wet, so 
Ole was told to pass the word to the men to shift 
their clothes to the other side of the ship. 

**Aye, aye, sir,'' boomed Ole's big bass, — ^then 
he gave the command. 

**A11 you men who iss got clothes ver de sun 
isn't iss, put 'em ver de sun iss iss. . . /' 

Say, that got us! and Ole never did hear the 
end of **ver de sun iss iss." That was all right, 
as it turned out, but next time — ^well, this is what 
happened. 

We anchored in an English port and like every 
good **bloomin' bloody Yank," as our British 
cousins call us, we got out our bats and balls ready 




OP 

O 

pq 



Depth Bombs and Destroyers Q5 

to play United States baseball. We had four 
cracking good teams on the ship. The first and 
fourth would play, then the second and third. 
The competition was pretty close and we were 
tickled to death when the American Consul got a 
tract of land for us and we went ashore to show 
those Johnnies a regular game, after watching 
cricket for an hour or two. 

Well, after several days of games, some of the 
men began abusing their shore privileges, and 
the officers knocked it off and kept us aboard — 
no liberty at all ! 

Gee, we certainly longed to get off the boat. 
There was land only a hand's throw away — and 
there was a whole diamond going to waste and 
games tied. One afternoon, after talking the mat- 
ter over, we plucked up courage and drew lots. It 
fell on me to go up to the Officer of the Deck and 
ask for a Recreation Party. 

I did. 

He didn't waste any breath at all. **No,'^ he 
said, so I slunk back to my mates. But we didn't 
let the matter rest. Every ten minutes another 



66 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

one of ns would marcli np with the same request. 
The 0. D. got sore. Ole was on watcH. 
^'Pass the word," the 0. D. commanded 
crisply, ^'No Recreation Party whatsoever!'^ 

Ole did. 

'^No Recreation Party what's er matter?" he 
hollered. 

That finished him. He lost a rank on account 
of it. Poor Ole, he got in dutch for fair ! 

We were convoying merchant and troop ships, 
going out to meet them and bringing them back 
to port. We started out one cold October day with 
a raging gale blowing. The sea was like a seeth- 
ing caldron — the waves were mountain high. 
We had on all the warm things we owned, but, at 
that, we were ice wherever the water struck us. 

I was muffled to the eyes. Esquimos had noth- 
ing on me and I could see we were in for some 
stiff duty. It wasn't a matter of one day — ^it was 
a matter of eight days on a raging sea — no 
chance to take off your socks even — life-preserv- 
ers on every minute of the time — ^watching out 
.sharp for Fritz. 



Depth Bombs and Destroyers! 67 

A flock of us met the ships we were to bring in 
and we started to steam back to our base, when 
we had the shock of our lives ! 

It was early morning, barely light. The sky 
was a gray line, as if you took a paint brush and 
slapped a streak from east to west. The water 
was gray and we men on the bridge rubbed our 
eyes, for right in front of us, not five hundred 
away — standing out black against the sky — ^was a 
German submarine. 

We figured she had laid there all night — and 
was going to send our flagship to the bottom if 
she could — ^but she couldn't have looked over her 
shoulder, because she didn't seem to know we 
were there. 

Well, we were after her like a streak of greased 
lightning. That was just what we had been pray- 
ing for; as we charged her we fired; we were 
almost on top of her, trying to ram her, when she 
submerged; we passed right over her as she 
went down; you could see the bubbles and 
spray. 

Then we launched our depth charges — '*ash 



68 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

cans," as we call them. They look like a ten- 
gallon drum. You set them off when you are 
traveling full speed right above your blooming 
submarine — ^fifteen knots we were making. 

Quick! Say, it's the speediest work in the 
world, because, once your charges are dropped, 
you have to beat it or get blown up yourself — as 
it is you can feel the explosion for yards around. 
Well, we dropped four — and got out of the way. 
As for the sub . . . zowy! Up she came to the 
surface, ripped wide open. Then she stood up on 
her end and sank as if somebody had pulled her 
down by the tail. 

One man of the German crew floated out of her 
before she sank for all time, and Ole, before we 
could stop him, had lashed a rope around him- 
self and was overboard hauling him in. The 
German was dead, so he couldn't give us any in- 
formation. Worse luck! But we didn't let that 
make us feel blue. I tell you we were a pretty 
pleased bunch. You feel good all over when you 
get a German sub. They are so blamed much like 
a crook waiting in a dark alley to stab a man in 



Depth Bombs and Destroyers 69 



the back. You owe it to society to knock him out 
good and proper. 

Yep, great crew ours. Some say destroyer duty 
takes nerve, but the reason I like it is that 
you don't feel like sleeping on your job; you're 
just too blamed afraid you'll miss the thrill of 
your life if you do. It's a great life! Take it 
from me I 



HOSPITAL APPRENTICE DUDLEY 
SPEAKS: 



IN TRAINING 

I didn't know what I wanted to enlist in — I 
didn't care. All I thought abont was that war 
was declared. That set my New England blood 
boiling, I suppose, and I didn't waste any time. 
I happened to be in Baltimore. I scooted down 
to a recruiting station and joined the Navy. 

They asked me what branch of service I wanted 
to go in for. I said I didn't give a hang just 
so long as I'd get a chance to go across and do a 
thing or two to the Huns. They chose the Hos- 
pital Corps for me. It sounded all right. I didn't 
dream of the hard work I was letting myself in 
for. 

After I'd left the station I called up mother 
on long distance. She was visiting in Connecticut. 
I told her I had joined. She said she knew I 
would and that she was glad I had not waited a 
day. That's mother all over for you. I think 



74 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

every ancestor she ever had fought in some war 
or other. No slackers in this family ! 

It was April. I had on an unlined suit and a 
light cravenette when three hundred of us left 
Baltimore at eleven next day. We were going 
to Newport. At five that afternoon we took the 
Fall River line. It was pretty chilly then. I kept 
wondering why the dickens I hadn't brought 
along an overcoat — but you didn't spealv about 
being cold, although I'll bet three-fourths of the 
men on that boat were chattering. We were in 
the navy now — fine sailors we'd make if we com- 
plained about a chill! 

We arrived in Newport between four and five 
in the morning, and anchored until daybreak. I 
thought it would never come. The sky was gray- 
ish. I hadn 't slept all night and I was beginning 
to wish we 'd get somewhere where I could turn in 
for a good rest, — but no such luck. 

A petty officer met us at the steamer pier, tak- 
ing us over in a little government boat to Coaster 
Island. We landed at the Government Pier and 
there we lined up. There was a queer old tub 



In Training 75 



anchored nearby. I asked someone what it was, 
and he told me that I was gazing upon the old 
frigate Constellation, which fought in the war of 
1812 and is now used as a signal school. She cer- 
tainly looked out of date. I wondered if our 
snappy sub chasers would look as clumsy as that 
in another hundred years. 

We marched to the receiving building and stood 
around on the outside. I didn't know a soul there, 
but three of us were Hospital Corps, and we sort 
of stuck together. The rest were a mixture. 
There were ** sparks" that's what they call the 
radio wireless men; and electricians; and there 
were ** chips'' — that's carpenters — and there were 
some of the ^* black gang," which are what the 
firemen are called, unless it's * * coalheavers. " As 
for us, we were the ** iodine crew." It's a good 
name, all right. 

Each draft was called in in turn. A C.P.O. 
would come to the door and bawl, *'A11 right, all 
New York draft in," and they'd waltz in while we 
waited and wondered how soon before we could 
sleep. 



76 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

After a while they called Baltimore, and we 
went inside, turned over our papers, and were 
sent to an adjoining room to receive the Navy 
hair-cut. 

Say, talk about speed! Liberty motors have 
got nothing on those four barbers. You no sooner 
sat down than — snip-snip-snip — and — ' ' Next ! ' ' 
Then you signed your name, but what the barber 
wanted with all our autographs I never have been 
able to make out. Perhaps he figures some of us 
may become great heroes and he'll sell the signa- 
tures for a young fortune some day. 

In the adjoining room we removed our clothes 
so that they could be disinfected and sent home. 
Then we took a shower. At times the water was 
very warm, then suddenly it would get cold as 
ice. They certainly believed in variety being 
the spice of life. 

We were vaccinated next, a long line of us. 
And some were so scared they just curled up and 
fainted. But I got through and went in for my 
medical exam. If you don't pass it right there 
you are rejected, but if you only have depressed 



In Training 77 



arches, or, say, stooping shoulders, they let you 
through. They know navy life will fix that 0. K. 
Just do setting up exercises for a few months and 
you'll gain a ton! 

Then we were measured for our uniforms and 
they were handed out to us: two suits of winter 
underwear, two pair of woollen socks, a navy 
sweater, a blue dress uniform and two white 
undress uniforms, shoes, hairbrush, clothes, 
*^kiyi," which, in plain English, is a clothes brush, 
shoe cleaning gear, needle and thread and thim- 
ble, six pocket handkerchiefs, a neckerchief, a 
pocket knife, two white hats, a watch cap and a flat 
hat. Then you get your bedding : a mattress, two 
pair of blankets, your hammock and your dufile- 
bag. Believe me, the mattress looked good to me. 
I could see myself drifting off into slumber in a 
gently swaying hammock. . . . 

They marched us to a Detention Barracks. Yon 
are not supposed to leave there until you get per- 
mission, in case someone breaks out with smallpox 
or yellow fever. 

Everything was complete in the barracks. 



78 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

Meals were cooked in a regular galley ; there were 
showers, mess room and sleeping rooms. Very- 
nifty ! 

A little, fat C.P.O. with a bald head came in 
and instructed us how to clue our hammocks. It 
didn't seem hard. We were pretty proud of the 
job — all twenty of us. 

By that time we could have eaten whale oil 
with a relish, and a squad of four went for chow, 
while the other fellows pitched in and laid out 
the mess gear. That navy stew certainly smelled 
good! The squad dished us out big portions of 
it and that, with hot coffee, made us feel like new 
men. 

After we had finished four men washed up the 
mess gear and the rest of us turned to and swept 
down the room. The little C.P.O. bounced in 
again and fixed up our watch for us — two fel- 
lows on guard, each standing two hours. The 
Chief posted the first watchman, and taps began 
blowing as we started in stringing our hammocks. 

It was great sport. Everyone had a theory 
about it, but we were told that, whatever we did, 



In Training 79 



we must get the hammocks straight, because a 
sagging hammock is death on the back. 

At nine, to the dot, lights were out. It was 
pitch black in onr room. Somewhere outside one 
feeble standing light flickered, but inside, nothing 
doing. 

Remember, these hammocks are about seven 
feet above ground — say, the fun started right 
there. How to get up in them was some problem. 
Each man thought of a way of doing it, and, in the 
first rush, one or two made it, but the rest of us 
only got a leg up and swung there before drop- 
ping back to earth. 

Everyone was hollering suggestions and trying 
to get a grip on the blamed things. It wouldn't 
have been so hard if the hammocks hadn't moved 
— ^but they almost acted as though they had sense 
— ^hanged if they didn't. They'd bob this way and 
that, and the moment you got up — ^well 

After three or four attempts I made it. I got 
in all right, but, before I could settle down, over 
it turned with me — spilling out everything I 
owned, me included. I scrambled around pick- 



80 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

ing up what I could in the dark, and what I 
said wouldn't be passed by the Board of Censors. 

I piled the things in again and crawled back 
— pretty cautious this time. I rolled up my 
clothes for a pillow and lay on my back, grip- 
ping both sides of my little old bed. That's the 
way I slept — or rather didn't sleep. All through 
the night there were thump-thumps, as someone 
fell out and hit the deck. 

When I heard reveille next morning I was so 
stiff I could scarcely move a muscle. I wasn't 
the only one though. "VVe looked at each other and 
wondered if ever under the blue sky we would get 
the hang of sleeping in something that turned 
over every time you hitched a bit. 

We cleaned up the quarters and spread our 
blankets and mattresses to air. It was bitter cold. 
We huddled close to the steam pipes and certainly 
(tackled the chow for all it was worth when it ap- 
peared about six a. m. 

After breakfast we lashed our hammocks, and I 
told mine a thing or two as I tied it up. Then 
we listened to the C.P.O. giving us our first talk 




A sniff of ^^chow.'' 



In Training 81 



on regulations. We wondered if we'd ever re~ 
member half the things he was telling us. 

As soon as he was out of sight, in trotted the> 
ship's tailor with a portable sewing machine. 
Funny little man, so intent on his tiny task of 
sewing little strips of white cloth inside our 
clothes for marking. I suppose he felt as impor- 
tant in his way as the Navigator. 

Somebody passed out stencils with our names, 
on them, and the C.P.O., rather out of breath from 
scooting all over the station, dropped in long 
enough to tell us how to mark our clothes — then 
he was off on the wing. Busiest man I ever saw. 
I bet he lost ten pounds a morning. Well, he 
could afford to. 

We were dying for lunch. You are always 
ready to eat in the navy, and the food is great. 
Lots of it, too. A new bunch of men had arrived 
— we felt like veterans as we gave them a hand 
at cluing their hammocks — and say, advice ! We 
told them all there was to know about climbing into 
your swinging bed. 

That night, when I crawled in, I found I could. 



82 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

manage much better. I was dead to the world, and 
I slept the sleep of the just. Nothing short of 
reveille or an earthquake could have made me open 
an eye. 

Next morning we parted from our room-mates. 
In peace times you are supposed to spend twenty- 
one days in detention. This was war, so we had 
spent three. We were to be shipped straight oif 
to our respective division stations. 

We Hospital Corps men reported to the head 
doctor and were assigned to classrooms. It 
seemed queer to be going to class again, after 
you'd been out making your living for a few 
years in business, but we got used to it. The 
lecture was on regulations, then they marched us 
over to Barracks B, our new home. We three 
from Baltimore stuck together. We were all as- 
signed to quarters on the second deck — it's really 
the second floor, but you don't call them that in 
the navy. 

It was a big place, but with a hundred and 
fifty men in it there was scarcely room to turn 
around — ^packed like sardines. We found a tiny 



In Training 83 

space up by a window and put up our hammocks. 
Supper was in the mess hall, then back we'd 
go to school for a lecture; after that you 
could study or write letters until nine o'clock 
and taps. 

We were up at five every morning, chow at six- 
thirty, mustered at seven-fifteen, and marched 
down to school in time to clean the lecture rooms 
inside and outside. Spick and span is the watch- 
word of the navy. You get so you wonder how 
you ever lived inside of a house that didn't shine 
from top to bottom. 

We didn't have to know much to pass exams — 
oh, no ! Only Anatomy and Physiology, and First 
Aid, and Minor Surgery, and Operating Room 
Technique, and Nursing, and Hospital Manage- 
ment, and Pharmacy, and Materia Medica, and 
Toxicologies, and Chemistry, and Litter Drill, be- 
sides a little ^*lab" work in the compounding of 
medicines. Oh, no — anyone could learn that with 
one eye shut! 

I stayed in Barracks B for three weeks, then the 
government sent down some big circus tents hold- 



84 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



ing about one hundred and fifty, and we pitched 
them. We slept on cots for a change. Queer how 
we had to get used to them. Hanged if we didn't 
long for our hammocks. 

I remember one night when we had a bear of a 
storm — a regular gale — and sure enough the old 
tent began to leak. I happened to be on watch 
so I spent about two hours going around keeping 
a sharp lookout for leaks^ — there were plenty of 
them. As wet a crowd of boys as I ever saw came 
forth, and I sent them to the lecture rooms to 
sleep. Funniest looking gang, sleepy and cross, 
their blanl^ets around their shoulders dripping 
water. They made a run for the deck. 

About twelve I woke my relief and started to 
turn in. There was no leak over my bed and I 
was half undressed when something rolled down 
my back. I beat it for the school. Not ten min- 
utes later the whole tent collapsed, with thirty 
men in it. Kescue parties were formed, and the 
men inside needed it — a small Niagara had swept 
in on top of them. 

But no one seemed any the worse for it. We 



In Training 85 



were a hardened lot by that time. I thought of 
the day I had left Baltimore and the way I had 
shivered with the cold — here I was, only a few 
weeks later, only half dressed, drenched to the 
skin and not minding it a bit. The training had 
done wonders for me. 

Next day a pile of lumber arrived — we carried 
it from the wharf to the Barracks and we were 
informed that after school we would find nails — 
plenty of them — one saw and one hammer for two 
hundred men to lay the floor, upright and erect 
tents before taps. Say, that was a staggerer! 
But orders were orders and we fell to. What did 
we do? Why, we got rocks or pipes or anything 
you could use for a hammer and with two hun^ 
dred huskies working at top speed just to show 
the CO. that they can do a thing once they make 
up their mind to it, we got those tents up that 
night right as a top ! 

Luckily for me, my site was 'way up on Straw- 
berry Hill, back of the hospital, and with the 
crackingest view of Narragansett Bay — and a 
distant glimpse of the Atlantic. It was a wonder- 



86 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

ful life np there. We'd become so used to out- 
doors that we used to talk about how strange it 
would feel to live in four walls again. We took 
everything as it came and enjoyed it. The gov- 
ernment certainly did all in its power to make 
things comfortable. We used to wonder how the 
Sam Hill all the busy people up in Washington 
could keep every one of us in mind and see that 
we were all supplied. It is a queer feeling — that 
sensation that you don't have to worry about to- 
morrow or what it will bring, that you are 
clothed and fed and housed — and that your only 
problems are the ones that may come with the 
rising sun. Great life ! 

Other camps were all around us. The Yeo- 
man's camp, the Seamen's camp — ^nothing but 
bluejackets from morning until night. We won- 
dered if the whole U. S. Navy were there — ^it 
didn't seem as if there could be any more sailors 
in the world. 

The Hospital Corps didn't have much drilling 
to do, just squad movements and litter drills and 
coxmter-marching. We used to parade through 



In Training 8T 



Newport to boom recruiting, and on Saturday the 
whole school turned out for Captain's inspection 
on the green in front of the War College. 

There was so much to learn that we spent most 
of our liberties in the study hall, but once in a 
while we would drop in at the Army-Navy Y. M., 
or go down to beaches for a swim, or take in a 
show. 

At the end of three months we were through a 
course that takes, as a rule, eight months. Then 
I went to the Naval Hospital and there I made my 
rate. Gee, but I'm glad I'm going over at last. 
There's a girl down in Baltimore — ^I've promised 
her some souvenirs. Some of the fellows have 
been back and forth eight times without a glimpse 
of a submarine — ^but I hope we see one. I'd like 
to tell it what I think of it. 

Yes, we're leaving pretty soon now. I'll tell 
you all about it when I get back. 



CHIEF PETTY OFFICER BERTRAM 
SPEAKS: 



ZEPS AND TORPEDOES 

I JOINED the navy because I felt patriotic and 
all the rest of it. You couldn't help it down home. 
Everybody was doing it. My brother-in-law made 
the yeomanry, my chum went in for hospital corps 
work. Wherever you turned you found fellows 
discussing their branch of service and swearing 
it was the best in the pack. It didn't take me 
long to make up my mind. I sure was crazy to 
get ** over there." 

It's the English in me, I guess. Yes, I've got 
quite a slice. Before the war I was thirty-third 
in direct line for the title of Earl of Northumber- 
land. Now I am about seventeenth. 

It's queer how much I wanted to go to London. 
I just itched to. My family had come from Nova 
Scotia to Louisiana and settled there. That's 
where I was bom — Johnny Rebs, you know. But 
that's ancient history — just plain all-round Amer- 
ican now. 

91 



92 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

I never had a chance to forget the English part 
of me, though. I conldn't very well. Yon see the 
solicitors send me a notice every now and then 
telling me how good my chances are of inheriting 
a thirty- three-million dollar estate and a couple of 
dozen titles on the side. 

Well, I don't care what I shipped on so long 
as it had a prow and a stern and kept afloat. They 
held me three months in the naval station waiting 
for a ship, and at last I got one — and what a one ! 
An old oil tank! Ever see an oil collier? It re- 
sembles one of the countries of Europe. Which 
one ? Greece, 

Grease everywhere. You eat grease and you 
drink grease and you sleep grease and you breathe 
grease. You never get it off your hands or your 
clothes or your disposition until you land. 

I was commissary. That meant I had charge 
of the cook and bought supplies and dished out 
food and made up the bill of fare. But I might 
as well have saved myself the trouble of that, 
because every little thing tasted alike. Why 
wouldn't it, with eighty-three barrels of oil on 
board? 



Zeps and Torpedoes 93 

None of us wore our uniforms. What was the 
use ? We were saving them for London or Paris, 
and it 's lucky we did ! Instead, we slapped on our 
overalls — ** dungarees," we call them in the navy. 
We looked like a crowd of rough-necks, instead of 
a crew of snappy bluejackets. 

We left some time in September, and steamed 
up to Nova Scotia, then across. We had a speedy 
ship, all right. Eight knots was the best she was 
known to make. Say, did it give you the jumps ! 
It sure did! I could walk a heap faster than 
that old tug could steam at full speed. It seemed 
as though every raider and submarine in the Zone 
would line up in a row and take a shot or two at us 
— ^it was too easy to miss. 

We had rough weather all the way. That and 
grease are about all that happened until we hit 
the Zone. There we met our convoy — a British 
flagship, a number of merchantmen, and a flock 
of torpedo boats. 

My pal was a fellow from Newark, New Jersey, 
Bill Willsie. He was out for excitement. 

**I certainly hope something will break before 



94 Over the seas for Uncl e Sam 

we land," he'd say, '*so that I can have a real 
yarn to spin for the folks back home. ' ' 

He got his wish. It was the fourth day in the 
Zone, at five twenty-seven in the afternoon. I was 
on deck sniffing air that wasn't full of grease. 
Suddenly I saw the red flag go up to the mast. 
. . . Danger! . . . Gee, I sure did wish Bill 
hadn't wished for trouble out loud. I wondered 
which one of us would get it — the British flag- 
ship ahead of us, or the merchantmen behind. 

It aU happened in the fraction of a minute. I 
saw scudding across the water the black nose of a 
torpedo. You've heard of men having a premoni- 
tion of death, but how about seeing it coming 
straight toward you at the rate of thirty miles an 
hour ! 

My God! I'U never forget it! I thought my 
heart had stopped beating. I gripped the railing 
and waited. She struck the flagship and sank 
her in seven and a half minutes. To this day I 
can see her going down — the explosion — the roar 
— ^the sudden list — the boats lowered, and, on the 
bridge, two figures pacing — pacing — ^the captain 
and the admiral. 



Zeps and Torpedoes 95 



Do you think they left their ship? Not they! 
Up and down — ^up and down — those two paced. 
Oh, I tell 3^ou the British are a great people, but 
I wished to God, as I stood there, that I had never 
had to see it proved to me that way. 

Up and down they walked, talking together as 
though nothing out of the way were happening. 
I saw the ship settle for her last heave. No, they 
didn't leave her bridge. Why not? They were 
true British naval officers, that's the answer. 
They sank with her. 

By that time every alarm on our ship was 
sounded — five long whistles, electric bells, a reg- 
ular bedlam let loose. I never heard such a noise. 
The life-boats swung out ready to drop. All 
hands were on deck except the engineers. They 
stand by in the engine room until a ship is struck. 
As soon as she is hit their job is id put out the 
fires and turn off the water — that is, if they aren't 
blown into the middle of next week first. 

About eighty yards away the submarine came 
up and fired point blank at us. She missed us 
again and she submerged. That was the last we 



96 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



saw of her. The destroyers were working like 
little flashes of lightning, picking np the men in 
the water, darting here and there. YonVe seen 
those dragon flies in the pools — that's what the 
little gray fellows were, dragon flies — ^here, there, 
everywhere. I never saw such qnick work. 

Along about eight we pulled into Dover. All 
dark, except for a few smothered lights. We an- 
chored and went np on deck. We were pretty 
glad to have land so near. You felt a lot safer. 
The comfort didn't last long, for w^e heard the 
queerest buzz in the sky above us — a long hum. 

'^Zeps! By Cracky!" yelled Bill in my ear. 
'^'We're in for an air raid!" 

Out of the blackness of the city before us leaped 
a million lights, cutting the darkness like a knife, 
hunting — ^limiting for those Zeps. Searchlights 
turning their yellow blaze on the sky, whisking 
from one point to another, relentless in their scour 
of the heavens. , 

Now and then they would spot one of the great 
black bugs that buzzed on high with that torment- 
ing hum keep it for a second in the radius of 




a* 
• I— I 

u 
Ph 

• r— i 

I—* 

o 

<4-l 
5=1 

o 

p< 

O 

P^ 



'I— I 

be 



O 

O 

a; 



Zeps and Torpedoes 97 



light, losing it as suddenly, and all the while the 
machine guns in the city pop-popped without 
taking a breath. 

Now and then from the sky would be hurled a 
black something that flamed and thundered as it 
struck earth. . . . Bombs! . . . Their red glare 
lighting up a roof — a cornice — a water front — 
showing groups of frenzied little black figures 
scurrying to shelter — then blackness once more 
and the pop-popping of the machine guns, spiteful, 
biting sound that never paused. 

It lasted about half an hour. The Zeps circled 
Dover and went back. The guns stopped firing 
one by one, as though they had run down. The 
lights died out, save for a few on guard. Did we 
sleep well? We did not, in spite of the fact that 
we hadn't had our clothes off a single night while 
in the Zone. 

'*I bet we're going to have a swell time in Lon- 
don," Bill told me. *^We sure have started off 
right ! ' ' We certainly had ! 

We had three days shore leave and we started 
out next day — sixteen of us — ^in our best bibs and 



98 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

tuckers, to see the sights. Were we glad to get 
ashore? Chorns — ^we were! We took a little 
train — fuimiest train I ever saw. Eeminded me 
of the Jim Crow cars back home. They were 
divided into first, second and third class, bnt over 
there uniforms can ride wherever they choose, 
and we are expected to pay only half of a third- 
class fare. 

Eemember, we were one of the first shipload of 
American sailors to put foot in London, and as 
such we were one of the sights of the city. 
Crowds! Say! New Year's Eve around Times 
Square or Mardi Gras back home had nothing on 
the mob we drew there in Charing Cross. 

They fought to see us. They elbowed and 
pushed and wormed their way in. The girls threw 
their arms around us and kissed us, and the men 
cheered, but that wasn't all. They wanted to 
wish on the eagles on our sleeve — all of them did. 
And they wanted souvenirs — ^anything for sou- 
venirs — ^buttons or American loose change. 

* * Give us American dimes, ' ' they 'd cry. ' * Give 
us American dimes," and they fought for them. 



Zeps and Torpedoes 99 

I had some Confederate money with me. They 
snapped it up. 

Two bobbies — ^they are the English policemen, 
you know — came to onr rescue, and packed ns into 
taxies, but not before the crowd surged around 
us exclaiming about our caps — our little white 
canvas hats. They had never seen any like them. 
They wanted those, too. I don't Imow what would 
have become of us if the police hadn't taken a 
hand. 

Say, by that time, we were hungry and thirsty, 
but we didn't dare get out for fear of starting 
another young mob. I felt like the President on 
inauguration day, or the King, or someone. 

*'Stop at a beanery," yelled Bill to our driver, 
a little old man with round shoulders and a shiny 
coat. He cocked an eye at us. 

*^Beg pardon, sir?" he said. 

Bill replied, ^*As me Allies, the French, put it, 
" *Jay fame.' " 

Our driver wasn't a French scholar. He looked 
at me. 

'* Where is it you want to go, sir?" 



100 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



**Food," I said. ^'In plain Anglo-Saxon, I 
hunger — I crave nonrislinient. " 

'*0h,'' he said, *'I see, sir,'' and he dumped ns 
out before a restaurant. We went in. 

^^Ham and eggs,'' we all shouted. Every good 
American sailor always orders that, but our 
waiter didn't care. 

*^You can have either ham, sir, or eggs. Not 
both." 

And we learned something else, too. You 
couldn't order more than thirty cents' worth of 
food at one sitting. It's against the law, and, 
what's more, you can't treat a pal; you can't even 
treat a girl, which ought to please some people 
I know back home. 

We didn't stay in that joint. We tried four 
others with the same result. I never wanted to 
spend money so badly before in my life. 

What got me was the work the women are do- 
ing in London. Women bus drivers — ^women 
street cleaners — ^women baggage smashers — and 
all of them the healthiest lot of girls I've ever 
seen — red cheeks and clear eyes and a smile for 
us always. 



^ Zeps and Torpedoes 101 

**Will you let us wish on you?" they'd cry. 
Of course we let them. I only hope their wishes 
came true. 

But, say, night in London is one great party. 
It gets dusk, and, if you 're on to what you are in 
for, you make a bee-line for where you are going, 
before the light fades entirely — or you don't get 
there. We didn't know that, so we planned to 
go to the Hippodrome ; but we waited until dark. 
Say, talk about pitch black ! It 's pale beside Lon- 
don at night ! 

Imagine Broadway with not a single light — not 
even a pale glimmer. Imagine it filled with thou- 
sands and thousands of people, bumping into each 
other — talking, laughing, whispering. 

No wagons or street-cars — nothing on wheels, 
except an ambulance, which crawls about with 
weird blue lights, very dim. Just crowds and 
crowds, knocking your hat off, stepping on your 
feet, taking your arm by mistake. Men apolo- 
gizing. Girls giggling. Voices coming from no- 
where. Forms brushing by and vanishing. 

The streets are full. I think every last person 



102 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

in London mnst turn out after dark. It is one 
big adventure. You never forget it. You don't 
know where you are or where you are going — ^no 
one seems to. When you get tired you stop some- 
one and ask the way to a rooming house. If they 
know they lead you along. You feel a door. You 
open it and close it cautiously behind yourself. 
You are in a dark vestibule. You cross a black 
hall groping before you. Suddenly your hand 
touches two curtains drawn close. You part them. 
Beyond is light at last. You enter the living-room 
of the house. Someone quietly draws the curtains 
so no faintest glimmer will penetrate the outer 
darkness. Say, it was some experience! 

Next day a gentleman in a big motor picked us 
up, five of us, and showed us the sights. He 
wouldn't tell us who he was, but he was a big bug 
all right. All the bobbies came to a crack salute 
as he passed by, and he took us through Parlia- 
ment and to Buckingham Palace. Wq couldn't find 
out his name. All he confessed to was that he sat 
in the House of Lords ; so I asked him about the 
family estate. He knew all the facts but said none 



Zeps and Torpedoes 103 



of the crowd were in London just then. I thought 
of looking them up, but I didn't get a chance. 

That night we took in the Hippodrome. It was 
all right, but it made ns homesick for the one on 
Forty-fourth Street. When we got back to the 
ship next day we f oxmd we were going home to 
the tJ. S. A. That was the best news I ever heard. 

We came back in sixteen days. Say, do I want 
to go over again? Well, rather! And 111 take a 
longer shore leave next time. Perhaps I'll run up 
to Northumberland and look over the old place. 
After all, seventeenth isn't so far down the line, 
now is it? 



CAPTAIN BAECLAY OF THE MARINE 
CORPS SPEAKS: 



*'THE LEATHER KECKS" 

I don't want to say anything that sounds like 
boasting, bnt the Marine Corps is the finest branch 
of service in the world. No exceptions. I guess 
yon know that marines date back to days of 
ancient Greece. They had them then. They were 
the landing party on shipboard — ^the fighting 
force. They were right there with their bows and 
arrows and javelins and spears, and they carried 
out their contract as well as the men who rowed 
the ship. Each one had his own particular duties. 
It's the same today, but somehow the nation has 
got into the habit of saying, ^* Leave it to the Ma- 
rines" — and we've tried to prove that we are 
worthy of the trust. 

In the old days there used to be a bit of feeling 
between the sailor and the marine. You'll find the 
reason for it in English history. About 1803 there 
was a mutiny in the British navy, and the marines 
helped put it down. After that they were called 

107 



108 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

the Eoyal Marines, but the sailors got an idea that 
they were on board a ship to prevent mntiny 
and they did not like them any too well. Bnt they 
soon found that the marine had his own field — and 
that he had just one motto — *' There's nothing I 
can't do." 

It's funny the way our men tackle everything, 
particularly as they have never been specialized 
like other branches. For instance, there is no 
bridge-building company, yet over and over again 
when there has been need of bridges the marines 
have just gone out and made them. 

There's nothing you can think of that you won't 
find some of them can do, from getting up a dance 
to rounding up a bandit. I was in Santo Domingo 
with my company. Most of the men were recruits, 
pretty soft from life in the barracks. We were 
ordered to a nearby post on the trail of a desper- 
ado. Before us lay a march of about four or five 
days. A hike is all right over level country 
that is fairly dry, but ours lay through a se- 
ries of marshes winding upward over a moun- 
tain. 



'The Leather Necks" 109 



We started off at a brisk pace and we didn't 
let up. There were patches of land which sent us 
through mud up to our knees — our feet were never 
dry day or night — ^but there was no kick coming 
about that. We were going to reach our base at 
the time planned — ^no later. 

The last day was the worst. We were on a level 
stretch at last, but there was no shade, and the sun 
beat down like a ball of fire. Our wet shoes dried 
and cracked on our feet — and we were blistered 
from heel to toe. But that didn't prevent our 
making thirty miles that day or doing the last 
four miles in forty-five minutes. 

We were tired to death when we reached our 
destination. It was ten o 'clock at night. The men 
dropped where they halted, just about all in. We 
hadn't been there fifteen minutes when word came 
to us of the bandit we were rounding up. It seems 
he was in hiding in the hills about twenty miles 
north of us. A woman brought us the tip. He 
had thrown her down and she was taking her re- 
venge in the usual way. 

There was no mistaking her earnestness. There 



110 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

was just one thing to do — go out after that rebel. 
I sent over to the men and asked for seven volun- 
teers. When the boys heard what was wanted, 
sixty per cent of the whole company offered 
to go. They forgot they were tired, stiff, sore — 
you couldn't hold them back! 

I had the horses saddled and every one who 
could conunandeer an animal mounted one. Some 
of them had never been on a horse's back before, 
but that did not stop them. They were off like a 
shot, the whole crowd of them — thundering up 
that dark road in search of the outlaw. 

They caught him, too, after an all-night ride, 
and they brought him back with them. I tell you 
a good rest was coming to them after that. They 
certainly needed it ! 

The men have a great pride in our service. 
They show it outwardly by keeping themselves 
trim as a whistle. On shipboard each man is al- 
lowed a bucket of water a day for his ablutions — 
no more. Well, a marine makes that bucket go a 
long way ; with it he washes himself, brushes his 
teeth, cleans his clothes, and scrubs the deck — any- 



''The Leather Necks'' 111 

one who claims he can do more than that with a 
bucket of water will have to show me ! 

And a marine takes his job seriously, whatever 
it is — ^yes, indeed. In the little French towns in 
Which they have been landed they have become the 
traffic cops of the place. All the duties of a gend- 
arme have been assumed by them with neatness 
and despatch. 

The marines decided that no bluejacket was to 
hold conversation with a French girl. Once that 
was definitely passed upon they began enforcing 
the law. A particularly happy young bluejacket 
had received a flower from the hands of a little 
French maiden. She had pinned it to his coat. 
Along came the marine while Jack Tar was try- 
ing to thank her in his very best and limited 
French. 

**Cut it out!'' growled the marine. 

**You beat it!" said the bluejacket. 

In reply the marine quietly but quickly plucked 
off the flower to emphasize his command. There 
was nothing else to do but to fight, and the marine 
managed to beat up Jack mildly. Jack went to the 



112 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

ship's doctor to have a stitch or two taken in his 
ear. He was still raging, and vowed he'd get that 
marine as soon as he was ont. The doctor stopped 
stitching long enongh to look up over his glasses. 

**I wouldn't, if I were yon," he said, ^Hhat ma- 
rine was very gentle with yon. Next time he might 
do some real damage." 

Yes, the sailor respects the marine as a majesty 
of the law. One slim, young marine is enough to 
make a gay and irresponsible party of bluejackets 
along the docks sit up and take notice. 

There was a young sergeant by the name of 
Watson. He was a particularly efficient chap. 
Seats were hard to get on the train going up to 
Paris, and, when a party of army, navy and ma- 
rine officers arrived at the little station, we found 
that Watson had reserved seats for all of us. On 
our return trip we were surprised to meet him at 
a station some distance from the little town that 
he was policing. We asked him if he, too, had 
been up to Paris. 

*'Yes, sir," he said. We asked him how it hap- 
pened he was so far away from his post. 




o 

be 
Pi 



a; 



'TIS 



''The Leather Necks" 113 

**I went up on my own, sir," he told us calmly 
enough. ' * I got to thinking that, perhaps, the blue- 
jackets were starting something in Paris, and I 
thought I'd take a run up just to see they weren't 
putting anything over on the marine corps." 

Evidently he found everything 0. K. or he 
would have remained to adjust it. 

It was Watson who had such trouble making the 
French peasants clean up their huts. Now, as 
everyone knows, the French peasant is an indi- 
vidual who wishes to be left alone to tend his little 
patch of ground. It is his own business if he has 
the cow beneath the same roof that covers him, and 
if the chickens have the freedom of the house it 
is, after all, an affair between himself and his poul- 
try, so to speak. But not in Watson's eyes. He 
had orders to clean up that town, and there were 
no exceptions. Protests were in vain. He saw 
that sanitary conditions for the first time pre- 
vailed, and not until the houses fairly shone, and 
the streets resembled Spotless Town, did he relax 
and express himself. 

*'I see their point of view, of course, sir," he 



114 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

told me, ^^but if it happens to be the wrong point 
of view there's nothing to do but to right it." 

The marines aren't beaten often at any sport, 
but when they are they take it as a tragedy. A 
ship's crew had been trained to shoot. They knew 
they could shoot, and, on landing, they challenged 
the marines to a contest. The marines, under a 
. grizzled old sergeant, long in the service, were im- 
mensely proud of their sldll on the range. They 
accepted the challenge. They were dead sure of 
the outcome. There wasn't a nickel within hail- 
ing distance that wasn't wagered! 

The marines got on the range before the blue- 
jackets. No advantage was taken. Well, the blue- 
jackets beat them at slow fire. They beat them 
at rapid fire. They beat them on skirmish, which 
the marines had boasted most about. Altogether, 
it was an unhappy day for the mariaes. 

Next day the commander of the ship, rising very 
early, saw a sight which fascinated him be- 
yond words. On the range were the crack shots 
of the Marine Corps. Gloweriag above them stood 
the sergeant, his beard fairly bristling with anger. 



"The Leather Necks" 115 

his back ram-rod straight. He had the men all 
out, and he was teaching them, with a thorough- 
ness incomparable, the rudiments of rifle prac- 
tice. 

With stony faces the men submitted to the in- 
sult of being returned to the kindergarten of 
shooting. Again and again they went through 
the manual. It was a just punishment for per- 
mitting bluejackets to defeat them! 

"Join the Marines — ^and see the world" — and to 
do that our boys pride themselves on extra quick 
obedience to orders, for there is no telling when an 
expedition will be pulled up in a hurry and sent 
to the other end of the globe. But whether they 
go or whether they stay, they accept it all calmly. 
The words of the little marine, who was plying his 
shovel one hot day, seem to sum up their content- 
ment. He had been shoveling dirt since early 
morning. The sun was warm, and he paused in his 
task to mop his face. He looked up with a grin. 

"I enlisted to see the earth," he said; "and 
here I am, digging it up, turning it over, and look- 
ing at it! . . ." 



BUGLEB COLBY SPEAKS: 



THE WAY WITH THE FRENCHIES 

I'm a home-loving man. I don't ask anything 
better of life than my little house in the country, 
with the wife bustling about and the kids waiting 
for a game of ball or a tramp in the woods. 

Yes, I'm a peace-lover, but I'm the kind of 
peace-lover who wouldn't quit this war a minute 
before the German empire is wiped off the map. 
I'm going to stand by untU that day comes to pass 
— as come it will ! 

I'd like to tear the heart out of every German 
for the work they have done to the French and 
British and Scotch and Irish — oh, I know what 
I'm talking about. Yes, you do, if you stay in 
Havre long enough. You can get all your facts 
first hand. 

Just wander down to the station every other 
evening when the big seven-thirty express thun- 
ders in with her load of returned British pris- 
oners. Yes, you can see with your own two eyes 

119 



120 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

what German methods are, and I tell you it makes 
a man, who is a man, ready to give the last drop 
of blood in him to stamp out a nation that treats 
men that way — and what's worse — ^women and 
children. ... 

I'd been in the navy five years as a bugler. 
You are on the bridge all the time, standing by 
for duty. We were assigned to one of the pret- 
tiest yachts afloat. It was originally the famous 
pleasure boat of a great New York multi-million- 
aire. She certainly was a nifty craft — about 
three hundred feet long, almost as big as a de- 
stroyer, and graceful as a swan in the water. 

There must have been great parties aboard her 
in the old days, and I wonder how she felt when 
they knocked out her mahogany staterooms and 
hauled down her real lace curtains and tore up 
her fine saloons, for transport duty. 

Nothing classy about her then — just dirt and 
grease and the smell of pork and beans. As for 
her color, she was gray, same as any little ten- 
cent tug. But her lines didn't change. She was 
like a fine lady who takes off her ball gown and 



The Way with the Frenchies 121 

puts on rags, and in spite of it yon can tell she's 
a fine lady through and through. 

We carried the first American troops to land 
in France. The very first. That was making 
history, wasn't it? It seemed right and fit that 
the proud little yacht should have the glory of 
taking the first batch of Yankees to foreign 
shores. 

It was a rough trip, though, and we felt sorry 
for the boys whose sea travels had been limited 
to the ferryboat between Hoboken and New York. 
Eough weather on shipboard is no joke. You can 
talk about the hardships of the trenches, but how 
about being aboard a pitching vessel, when you 
can't even get a light in your galley ranges, which 
means no food can be cooked and a steady diet of 
hard tack and bully beef ? 

Oh, we hadn't any kick coming. It was all part 
of the game, but we did wish the sea would calm 
down a bit and the fog lift. I never saw such a 
fog in all my days. From the minute we left, it 
wrapped itself around us like a damp blanket. 
You could hardly see your hand before your 



122 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

face. We didn't need a smoke curtain that trip 
— ^nature provided one for us, all made to order. 

Our first taste of excitement was on the thir- 
teenth day out. We were just wishing for some- 
thing, when we saw, through the mist that had 
let up a little, a strange ship ahead of us. We 
signalled her to make her colors, but instead she 
started off as though she were trying to run away. 
That promised hot excitement, so we went after 
her. We chased her for five hours — ^now losing 
her in the fog, now sighting her again, gaining 
on her inch by inch. We were sure she was a 
blamed German merchant vessel trying to sneak 
back to her base, and we had the guns primed to 
send her straight to the place all Germans come 
from. 

When we got within a few hundred yards of 
her we hauled up the battle ensign on the fore- 
mast. We meant business. The gunners stood 
by. Just as they expected to hear the command, 
**Fire when ready/' up came the British Jack 
to her mast ! 

Say, but we felt foolish, chasing one of our 



The Way with the Frenchies 123 

own allies all over the broad Atlantic. We asked 
lier why the deuce she hadn't made her col- 
ors before, and she signalled back that she 
was nnder the impression we were an enemy 
raider. 

We calmed down after that and made port 
without pursuing the rest of the British navy to 
cover. 

The base we established was the first naval 
base in France. We kind of like to think that 
some day, when our grandchildren cross the 
Atlantic on a pleasure trip — it having been made 
safe by us from those German vipers — ^they'll 
hunt out the little harbor, tucked away in a cor- 
ner, where their grandfathers landed that June 
day, and went ashore with the first handful of 
American soldiers to set foot in France. They 
were there for just one purpose — ^to show what 
red, white and blue blood could do toward mak- 
ing the world a safe place to live in. 

No fogs in France — ^just yellow sunshine and 
soft air and eager crowds waiting for us with 
open arms. Flags everywhere. It certainly made 



124 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

you catch yonr breath to see your own star- 
spangled banner flying from the windows of the 
little French town. 

We went ashore pretty flush. Some of us had 
as much as a couple of hundred dollars, I sup- 
pose. We made our way to the railroad station. 
We wanted to get up to the **gay Paree" we'd 
been hearing about all our lives. We couldn't 
believe we were within hailing distance of it. It 
had always been a bright red spot on the map 
that we hoped to visit some day — and here we 
were just a few hours away from the liveliest city 
of Europe. 

We made for the railroad station double quick. 
It was there I had my first real taste of French 
big-heartedness. In the crowd I noticed a beau- 
tifully dressed woman. She had all the .French 
zip about her, but when she saw us she began to 
cry, and she just let the tears roll down her 
cheeks as though she didn't know she was do- 
ing it. 

She stepped forward as we were passing, and 
the crowd let her through. They seemed to know 



The Way with the Frenchies 125 

who she was, for they whispered together and 
pointed her out. She hurried toward us and be- 
gan to talk in broken English. 

**You must be careful," she begged us. "All 
this money you have — it may tempt some of these 
poor people. Put it away, I implore you. Use 
only as much as you need. ..." 

Then she caught my hands. '*0h, how glad I 
am that you have come at last ! How I bless you 
and your country ! ' ' 

She bought our tickets to Paris for us and 
saw us safely on the train, putting us wise to 
the ropes. Nothing was too much trouble for her 
to do for us. I tell you we never forgot it. Even 
after the train pulled out of the station we could 
see her standing a little apart from the rest, wav- 
ing her lace handkerchief to us until we rounded 
a curve and lost her from sight. 

Now that we were started on our journey we 
felt great and I began to tune up. I can sing a 
little, my mates say, so I let out a few songs that 
made us think of home. While I was giving them 
'* 'Way Down upon the Suwanee Eiver" the door 



126 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

of the compartment opened and a big chap in a 
British uniform stood there grinning. 

''Don't stop, boys," he said. ''It sounds 
bnlly!'' 

It was Panl Hainey, the great Ennter. Say, we 
certainly were glad to meet him, not only because 
he spoke our language, but because we knew from 
hearsay that he wasn't afraid of m^an or beast, 
and that's the kind of a fellow you like to know. 
He stayed with us the rest of the journey, and 
as he was to be in Paris a day on his way to 
Belgium, he took us with him to the American 
Ambulance Quarters, where he was stationed. 

We arrived there in the evening. Next day he 
had to go on, so we found .ourselves wandering 
around the Place de la Concorde and the Place 
Vendome and the Champs Elysees without com- 
pass or rudder. 

It was a pretty city, but all of a sudden I felt 
awfully blue. Everywhere you turned somebody 
hollered something at you in a language you 
couldn't make head or tail of — even the hack 
drivers and little kids in the street talked French. 



The Way with the Frenchies 127 

I took a room at tlie Continental, and say, they 
almost robbed the shirt off me. Next morning I 
was wishing so hard for home you conld almost 
hear me coming down the street. I found the 
American Express office and lingered there listen- 
ing to people speaking English. I wondered 
where the gay part of '*Paree'* came in. It 
looked bnsy and prosperous and warlike to me — 
but gay? Nothing doing. 

. Just then someone spoke in my mother tongue 
and I whirled to see a French army officer at my 
elbow. 

**If you have not already seen the sights of 
Paris, it will give me great pleasure to show 
them to you," he said. 

I hadn't, so he proceeded to do the honors, and, 
like everything the French do — ^be it big or small 
— ^he made a thorough job of it. He was my host 
for two days and a half, and I'll guarantee I saw 
every little thing in Paris from the Apaches up. 
I wouldn't have missed that sight-seeing trip for 
all the gold in Europe. That's the French for 
y6u. Their hearts and their homes were opened 



128 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



wide to us. I bet there isn't a Yank living who 
wouldn't fight to the last breath for them. 

Next I fell in with two French privates on fur- 
lough. They took me home with them and to show 
my gratitude I sang our songs for them and 
taught them some real live United States slang. 
They were good pupils, too, and were proud as 
peacocks of startling a crowd by calling out, 
**Wash you step!" 

It was from them that I bought my best little 
souvenir — a German officer's helmet one of the 
Frenchies had picked up after shooting his man. 
It was a peach of a helmet, slashed across the 
patent leather crown, and still stained with 
blood. Inside was stamped the officer's name and 
regiment. He was of the Death Head Huzzars — 
the Kaiser's own. 

I asked Frenchie if he didn't want to keep it, 
but he shrugged. He could get plenty more, I 
made out he meant. He was going back to the 
front soon; they'd be picking helmets off the 
trees once the French got really started. So I 
bought it from him for forty francs. 




03 



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The Way with the Frenchies 129 

Our boat lay in the harbor. They were coaling 
it, and, once ready, we started our work of pa- 
trolling the coast. It was on one early afternoon 
that we got sudden orders to put to sea, and we 
started out at a fast clip. Somebody passed the 
word that we were on a rescue party and to keep 
a sharp watch out for rafts or lifeboats. 

Eescue party! Ever see men who have faced 
death in a leaky boat all through a black night? 
I'll never forget their faces — something was 
stamped there that will never come out — a grim, 
strained, white look you don't like to see. The 
few boats we spotted bobbed about like corks on 
the waves. The men were too numb to pull on 
their oars. They had been rowing all night. 
Some of them were half dressed. 

Once we pulled them in and helped fit them out 
with clothes we heard their story. They had been 
struck amidships by a blasted torpedo along 
about midnight. Their boat was a yacht some- 
thing like our own; the impact of the shell blew 
her to a thousand bits. The men asleep were 
killed like rats in a trap. The few on deck man- 



130 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

aged to launcH some boats and rafts before they 
were sucked down with the vessel. 

That midnight attack made our score against 
the Hun a little higher, not that I needed any 
incentive to hate him another notch. I had a 
vision stamped on my mind I could never forget. 
I could still see that black snake of a train crawl- 
ing into the crowded station at Havre — ^hear the 
long-drawn grinding of the brakes and hissing of 
steam — see the guards keeping back the mob 
surging forward for a chance to welcome home 
its sons. There was endless noise and confusion 
— ^but occasionally you would find a silent watcher 
— a woman and sometimes a man, who stood mo- 
tionless, staring at the cars — ^muscles taut, wait- 
ing for God knows what horror. 

Yes, you don't forget the first sight of the re- 
turned prisoners, in their worn uniforms. White- 
faced boys looking about eagerly for the face of 
friends — friends at last, after three long years! 
No, you never forget those battle-scarred men, 
with here an arm gone, or a leg — or worse, the 
eyes blinded forever. 



The Way with the Frenchies 131 

Oh, my God ! you dream of it nights afterward ; 
yon see that endless line of maimed and broken 
men. . . . 

Hate Germans! I tell yon I'm a peace-loving 
man and all I want is my little home, with the 
wife and the kids, bnt do yon think I'd stop fight- 
ing in this war while there is yet a drop of blood 
left in me? Not much! I love my own too well 
to let them suffer as those French and Belgian 
women have — that's the answer! 



J 



ENSIGN STAFFOED 
SPEAKS: 



A YANKEE STANDS BY 

I haven't anything to tell abont. Being tor- 
pedoed is an old story now. Any number of men 
have met Fritz on the way over, and, if they 
haven't been quick enough, he's managed to take 

a shot at them, but it isn't often we fail to get a 
chance to retnrn fire. Just let a periscope stick 
its head out of water, and I'll show you action on 
deck that would make a Kansas cyclone look tame 
— ^not that I've seen one. My home is in the East. 
The best we can boast about is a blizzard or two, 
and a sixty-mile gale. 

I enlisted as a signalman, and was assigned to 
duty on a merchant ship. There were two other 
TJ. S. N. signalmen aboard her, and we managed 
to make the time fly talking about home and the 
people we knew. 

One of our prize ways of speeding up a long 
evening on shipboard was to swap notes on the 
summers we had spent. We all three, at different 

135 



136 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



times, had ** vacated" in the Maine woods, almost 
at the identical spot, and, do yon know, we hailed 
the fact with something very close to trinmph ! 

I guess we three hashed over every little inci- 
dent of our trips. We found we had had the same 
close-mouthed Indian guide, that we had all fished 
on the same bank of a little lost lake, that we had 
all camped on the same site in a cleariag by the 
water. But when we discovered that we had used 
the same sort of tackle, and the same-sized rifles, 
we were almost *' moved to tears, '^ as the lady 
novelists put it. 

Those things, small as they seem, are the most 
important things in the world when you are 
far away from home. They certainly make 
men inseparable, and, aside from the fact that 
Dick Chamberlain and Tod Carlin and I were the 
only Americans aboard, we became, from the first, 
the best pals in the world. 

We were proceeding as flagship of a convoy, 
and, as such, we kept an extra sharp lookout for 
trouble, once we were in the zone. 

It was three o 'clock on the afternoon of a clear 



[A Yankee Stands By 137 

^— ^^^— ^^— — ''^— — ^'^^^""^^"^— ^^^^^^^"**^^'^^^^°^'^^^''"''°^^^"''^^^^'^^^^^^™'^^^— ** 

September day. The sea was smooth and we were 
all on deck. The sky was so blue and the sun so 
bright that it seemed as though the lurking sub- 
marine we were always expecting was a myth like 
the sea serpent you read about but never see. 
Night time is the time you are looking for an at- 
tack, but broad daylight always seems to dispel 
thoughts of danger. However, the danger was 
there. 

We were struck close by the engine rooms. All 
I remember clearly was the terrific roar and splin- 
tering of wood, and the sudden listing of the ship. 
The order rang out to clear the ship and the crew 
immediately took to the life-boats in the event of 
rapid settling. 

We three found ourselves assigned to the sam_e 
life-boat. There was a slight delay in lowering it. 
That delay was fatal. The explosion that we had 
been expecting blew our boat to pieces and we 
found ourselves struggling in the water. 

The officers ' boat had been lowered and it drew 
up alongside of us. They helped us in. The cap- 
tain was all for going back to his ship. He was 



138 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

sure there was no immediate danger of her sink- 
ing. The water-tight compartments fore and aft 
were holding and he called for volunteers to go 
aboard and help in an attempt to beach the ship. 

By this time the other life-boats were beyond 
hailing distance and we found out afterward that 
the men in them, including some British gunners, 
were picked up later by patrol boats. 

Of course, all the occupants of the remaining 
boats volunteered. I didn't particularly like the 
looks of the ship, as her Avell docks were on the 
sea level, but she had stopped settling and we fol- 
lowed the rest aboard. 

It seemed queer to be on her again. There were 
just a handful of us, the rest of our mates were 
out of sight, bound for none of us knew where. It 
was like returning to a ghost ship, she lay so still 
on the waters, rocking softly, the waves washing 
over her deck. 

There was plenty of work for all hands — ^it 
didn't give us time to think. I was glad of that. 
Dick and Tod and I joked a bit about what the 
people back home would say now, if they could see 



A Yankee Stands By 139 

us up to onr ankles in water on a sinking ship. 
Afternoon changed to evening. Still we saw no 
sign of help coming toward ns. However, jnst so 
long as Fritz stayed away we were satisfied. 
When it got good and dark, thongh, we weren't 
quite so pleased. It helps, I can tell you, to be able 
to see your hand before your face. You feel a 
lot happier then. 

Late that night we made out something coming 
toward us. We weren 't sure whether it was friend 
or foe. It gave us a bad few minutes, then we 
made out the towboats who had come to our as- 
sistance. We were so glad to see them that we 
almost cheered out loud, which is one thing you 
don't do in the Zone. 

We passed them lines, and they steered a course 
for land. All this time our ship was slowly work- 
ing water ; you could tell it by measuring, but the 
chief engineer continued to assure the captain that 
we would be successful in beaching her. 
' All night we moved slowly through the water, 
wondering each minute when she would take a 
sudden dive to the bottom. Walking along the 



140 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



edge of a canyon in the dark is much the same sen- 
sation, I gness. We were glad when we saw a 
pale streak in the sky, and watched the morning 
star fade. Daybreak f onnd us still afloat. 

Some of the British crew had had experience on 
torpedoed ships. I suppose they knew that the 
wise thing to do was to leave her if they got the 
chance. That was the reason why they chose to 
go on the escort vessel when the captain put it up 
to them. By morning it certainly looked as if our 
ship would never be beached on this earth. We 
were in water up to our knees. There wasn't a 
dry spot on us, and the chill winds that swept 
down from the north played a game of hide-and- 
seek through our wet clothes. 

The captain called us all together. He told us 
that the chances for bringing her in were small, 
that no man need stand by, that he did not blame 
anyone for choosing dry land and dry clothes in 
preference to almost certain sinking. 

His speech did not shake the officers' determina- 
tion to remain aboard her — all of them. They 
simply had no intention of getting off so long as 



[A Yankee Stands By 141 

there was a glimmer of a chance of landing her 
safe. Then the captain asked Dick if he desired 
to remain or if he wanted to get off. Dick 
grinned. 

"I'll stay, sir,'^ he said. 

The captain asked Tod. 

"I'll stay, too, sir," he answered. 

The captain came to me. I had my answer 
ready. 

"I'll stay, sir," I told him. 

After he had thanked ns and gone on, Dick 
called a meeting of the Three Yanks. * * Yon didn 't 
stand by just because I volunteered to, did youf " 
he asked anxiously. We shook our heads. Our 
teeth were chattering so that it was hard to say 
what we thought, so we didn't try. What I 
thought was something to the effect that I wished 
I had my extra sweater on underneath, and that I 
was glad I had two such plucky pals. 

We spent another night on board her. We had 
had not slept for forty-eight hours, but we didn't 
seem to need to — the excitement of wondering 
what the next minute would bring banished sleep. 



142 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



The following morning at four o'clock we 
landed safely on tlie beacL The destroyers 
took ns off the ship — ^all we knew was that at last 
we were on something where we could rest. I 
remember some of the crew asking us questions, 
but I don't remember our answering. We just 
dropped down on a roll of blankets and closed our 
eyes. ... 

I woke last. Dick and Tod were chatting softly 
in a corner. I opened my eyes and listened. 

'*Well, write it down, Tod, so you don't forget," 
Dick was saying. "You and Clink and I will hike 
it for Maine. Is that straight?" 

** What's this?" I asked. Dick grinned over at 
me. 

"We're making a little date for after the war," 
he said. "We figured what a lot we'd have to 
talk about on that camping trip, eh?" 

I nodded. "You can count me in," I said. 

But, as it's turned out, there won't be any 
camping trip for the three of us after all. Dick 
was lost at sea on his next trip across, while I was 
sick in hospital. Then I heard that Tod had gone 



A Yankee Stands By 143 

down, and it nearly knocked me out. There never 
"were two such pals as those chaps. 

Perhaps some day when it's all over, and we've 
licked the Hnn to a standstill, I'll wander up there 
myself with our stony-faced guide; and perhaps 
I'll sit on the bank of our little lake and fish in the 
clear water with the tackle we all used, or shoot 
the same-sized rifle — and I'll have the satisfaction 
of knowing that they've trod every inch of the 
ground — ^it will be almost like having them there 
— ^but not quite — pals like that don't happen more 
than once in a lifetime — ^I wish I could tell you 
just what great sort of fellows they were — oh, 
well, I couldn't if I tried a thousand years — so 
what's the use? 




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SEAMAN BUEKE 
SPEAKS: 



A TASTE OF HELL 

I joined tlie Navy as an apprentice seaman. I 
thongM it would be great to try a new way of 
licking the Huns. I had sampled the army. Yes, 
I was at the Somme with the Canucks. Greatest 
bunch of fighters the world has ever seen ! 

I can say it, because I'm an American, but as 
soon as war was declared, my three cousins and I 
beat it for Canada and enlisted. We were all in 
the same regiment, the third to go across. 

You've no idea until you get into the thick of 
a fight with shrapnel whistling past you and shells 
bursting a few feet away, how much depends on 
your leader. It's up to him to win or lose the 
ground you're holding for all you're worth. The 
men in charge of us were young and some of them 
pretty green at the war game — ^but say! there 
wasn't a bloody Hun alive that could scare them! 
Not by a long sight ! 

We sailed in August, about two thousand of us. 

147 



148 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

We had a quiet trip across and, oh, Christmas! 
how we did long to get into the scrap! They 
landed us at a French port and we had just three 
days' training before we were ordered up. 

Yon can't make much headway in three days to 
prepare you to meet the Boches, but we did man- 
age to get in a little drilling and skirmishing. All 
the bayonet charging I learned was from a Jap in 
my company. He was a funny little cuss. Why 
he joined up I can't imagine. You'd think he 
would rather save his skin and stay at home, but 
he was all for fighting. He had been trained in 
Japan and had joined the Canadians at the last 
minute. 

My cousins and I learned all we knew from him. 
He seemed glad to show us. He was a friendly lit- 
tle chap and some fighter! I remember seeing 
him alongside of me for a few seconds in a trench 
full of Germans . . . and then not seeing him. 
What became of him I never knew. You don't, 
most of the time. 

A long line of troop trains were awaiting us. 
Pullmans? I guess not! — freights. We piled in. 



A Tcwte of Hell 149 

We were all anxious to get to the front. We knew 
they were in desperate need of men and that we 
might get a chance to go over the top, green as 
we were. 

It was night before they opened the doors and 
let us out. We seemed to be in a sort of meadow. 
It was black as a cave, except for the lights of the 
station. There was plenty of noise as two thou- 
sand men alighted, but there was another sound — 
a dull, thick booming . . . cannons! It seemed 
thousands of miles away, but you never forgot it 
for an instant. It meant that we fellows who had 
been so recently in offices plugging away for so 
much a week were out there at last on the great 
battlefield of France ! 

We had reached the trenches. They weren't at 
all like I supposed they'd be. I expected them to 
be narrow, with room enough for one man only. 
Instead two and sometimes three could walk 
abreast. It seemed to me as though we marched a 
hundred miles that night. I was so tired I was 
ready to drop, and then all the mud I had ever read 
about seemed to be planted in that trench ! Mud ! 



150 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

We tramped through knee-deep slime — ^knee-deep, 
mind you — and we thought that was bad until we 
went in up to our waists. 

It must have been raining pitchforks before we 
arrived, and as we scuffed along the best way we 
could it began again — a cold, driving rain straight 
down from the black sky, stinging our faces and 
running down our necks. After a while we halted 
for the night. 

There were dugouts where you could set up your 
cook-stove if you were lucky enough to own one. 
All your food you carried on your back in cans, 
but you didn't have energy enough left to open 
them. You just dropped down under the shelter 
of a bunch of sandbags if you were lucky, or if 
you weren't, in a muddy patch of ground where 
you slept like a log. 

Next day we were on our way — that long line of 
drenched men tramping toward the sound of the 
big guns. That's how you measured distance, by 
increasing volume. The rain had begun in earnest 
and it never let up for the three days we made our 
way to the trench just back of the Big Hill. 



A Ta^te of Hell 151 

It seemed to be our destination, because we got 
orders to begin digging, and we went to work with 
pick and shovel. I forgot how tired I was in the 
excitement of being so near the Hnns. You do 
ont there. Yon don't worry abont dying, that's 
one sure bet, nor about eating or sleeping; the 
one thing that gets you is when your best pals go 
west. 

I had to stand watch that night. That meant 
two hours of pacing back and forth, fifteen feet, 
ready for the enemy's charge at any second. I 
couldn't believe that the fellows we were waiting 
for were so close up — there across that short patch 
of ground — ^but I realized it when a shell fell not 
five feet away from me and blew three of my pals 
to bits. By God ! I knew it then ! 

I shall never forget it. I'd been listening to 
them talk in a little knot as I paced by, swapping 
smokes and trying to find a dry place to stand. 
One of them laughed. That was the last sound I 
heard before the crash of explodiQg shell. There 
wasn't one of them left. 

We were four days waiting for the signal to 



152 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

charge. We were mad for it. It seemed as if the 
leaders conld not hold us back another day. We 
wanted to get at those damned Huns who had 
killed our pals. We knew we could lick them, raw 
as we were. We had some full-blooded Indians 
from Ontario with us. They were the real thing 
in a fight. They did not know what fear meant. 
There just wasn't any such word in the language 
for them, and when they charged they forgot they 
were supposed to use rifles. They threw them 
away and drew their long knives — razor-sharp. 
That 's how they went after the Huns — and butch- 
ered the swine good and proper. 

On the fourth day the signal was passed along 
the trench for a charge. One hundred and fifty 
men were picked — every third man. I was lucky 
and was one of the number. Every man was keen 
to be first over the top. About nine of the Indians 
came along. None of my cousins made it, but the 
little Jap who had taught me bayoneting was be- 
side me, grinning and fondling his rifle as a mother 
does her baby. 

Our leaders sprang up on the sand bags and 



A Taste of Hell 153 

hurled us the order. How few of them came 
back from that charge on which they set out so 
fearlessly ! 

We climbed up. We heard our officers shout- 
ing to us and our comrades wishing us the best 
of luck, to give the Huns hell! We sprang for- 
ward and the Germans opened a rain of bullets 
from their machine guns full upon us and the men 
who followed. They swept our lines. Men reeled 
and fell to the left and right of me — just crumpled 
up like those little toys whose springs have 
snapped. Still we went on. We made the trench 
and I speared my first Boche. Got him, too! 
Brought back his iron cross as a trophy. The 
Germans were scampering to the next trench like 
rats caught in a trap. They sure do hate hand- 
to-hand fighting! 

We held that trench six days. It was jumpy 
work. The Germans were driven back, but there 
was no telling when they would start with the 
hand-grenades. They didn't do that, but they did 
something worse — ^gas. It was pretty new to us 
then. We were fitted out witli a sort of rubber 



154 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

mask that wasn't mncli good. We saw a fellow 
drop a way down the line. Then one of the 
brownish trench rats, a friendly little chap, who 
ate the scraps I shelled ont to him, turned np his 
toes. We clapped on our masks, but the wind 
was with Fritz and the gas swept through our 
trench on the breeze. 

It lasted about an hour and a half. I'd hate 
the job of being the first man ordered to take off 
his mask and test the air for the rest, but some 
one has to, and it often means lights out for him. 

I had been slightly wounded — a sabre cut on my 
leg, but I managed to dress it myself. It was ten 
times better to be up, however rocky you felt, than 
lying around those damp trenches. I wondered 
where my cousins were. I worried about them. 
Somehow I wasn't afraid for myself, but I just 
wished it would soon be over and I could get 
home. You think about home an awful lot out 
there. 

We were sent to some swamps next. There 
were cement trenches — German make — and they 
were considerably drier. We were pretty com- 



A Taste of Hell 155 



fortable there except for an occasional shell 
blowing things to bits. I used to wonder how 
there was enough lead in the world to make all the 
shells the armies used. We always had plenty of 
ammunition. The Eussians were the ones who 
got the raw deal. "We passed a lot of them on our 
way out front. A regiment of them was holding 
a square. They were dull-eyed boys — ^hopeless 
looking. Do you blame them? One day they 
would be sent out with ammunition to burn. The 
next they wouldn't even be given a rifle. How 
did they protect themselves? Oh, rock's and 
stones, I suppose. But they were wiped out 
when they tried to charge empty-handed, that's 
sure. 

The Germans raided us with hand grenades one 
night. We heard them coming and we fought like 
fiends, but they outnumbered us five to one. I 
went down with a shot in my side. The next 
thing I remembered was being aboard a trans- 
port bound for home. Nothing ever sounded so 
good to me as that word! I found my three 
cousins were aboard. One of them had lost his 



156 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

two legs, another his leg and his arm, and the 
youngest had his right arm blown off. 

It didn't take me long to find out how lucky I 
was. All I needed to do was to look around at the 
other eighteen hundred wounded. They landed 
us at Halifax, on our way to Toronto. I was laid 
up for quite a while, and the funny thing was 
now that I was home again I kept planning 
ways to get back as soon as I could just to show 
those Huns who's who. 

I used to lie in my clean white bed, looking out 
a long window onto the garden. It was calm and 
quiet. But I didn't seem to see it — ^what I saw 
were those blood-soaked trenches, with your pals 
gasping out their lives alongside of you and your 
leaders, falling even as they urged you to charge ! 
It took me a while to get well and when I did I 
went back to the States. I had an idea. I would 
join the Navy. It woidd be a new way of meeting 
Fritz. I liked the thought of killing him whole- 
sale on the sea. 

I enlisted as an apprenticed seaman, — that was 
last March. I am in fine trim, except for a scar 



A Taste of Hell 157 

on my leg and a bullet hole in my side. IVe fin- 
ished training now and I'm ready to be shipped 
across. Gee, but I hope we '11 get a fat submarine 
full of German officers — and that we '11 drown them 
like the rats they are ! 



SECOND-CLASS GUNNER'S MATTE 
FOWLER SPEAKS: 




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THE WANDERLUST AND THE WAR 

IVe been torpedoed three times — three ships 
gone down under me, and I'm still here. Didn't 
mind it much — I can swim; besides, I'm pretty 
used to the sea — first shipped when I was 
thirteen. My father and mother had sent me to 
a manual training school. I didn't like it. I was 
always playing hookey and finally ran away. 

I didn't care where I went jnst so long as it was 
on a ship. I knew it was the sea I wanted. Be- 
fore I decided, I nsed to hang aronnd the docks. 
I liked the smell of the water and the big talk of 
the old salts who had been aronnd the world a 
dozen times. They didn't stay cooped np in any 
f onr walls studying geography — they went out and 
lived it. 

I knew enough about sailing to ship as boat- 
swain. I was big for my age, so they took me on. 
It was a sand sucker going down to the mouth of 

the Mississippi. 

i6i 



162 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

The skipper took a kind of a shine to me. He 
saw I wanted to study navigation so he lent me 
books and let me go into the chart house and 
work. Arithmetic was hard for me, and spelling, 
too, but I'd copy out words I didn't know and 
take them to him. I guess he saw I was in 
earnest. 

As a result I got my rate as able-bodied seaman 
when I was fifteen. I was in New Orleans then, 
and I saw a chance to ship on one of the Standard 
Oil boats bound for Tampico. 

I was crazy to go to Mexico. There was a 
**Mex" on the old ship and he was always talk- 
ing about the sunshine and free fruit in his coun- 
try. When I told him where I was bound for he 
wanted to come, too, but my new skipper couldn't 
see him. "Mex" drank too much fire water for 
the good of one man. 

We didn't stay long in Mexico. I got a chance 
to go through Vera Cruz, and that was about all, 
before starting for home. I'd saved quite a lot 
of money and all the way back to New York I 
kept asking myself would I or wouldn't I drop 



The Wanderlust and the War 16S 

in on my father and mother to let them know I 
was alive. I couldn't decide. When I got to 
New York the first thing I did was to buy myself 
a great outfit; then I started to the street where 
I knew the family lived. On the way I met a 
pal who was shipping on a small boat leaving 
for Canada. He wanted me to go along. There 
didn't seem to be any good reason to refuse, see- 
ing as I had all my papers. I'd never been to 
Canada. 

I told him about wanting to call on my parents^ 
but he said there 'd be time enough when I got 
back to port. I went along with him and up to 
Nova Scotia. 

All the time I told myself it was going to be 
my last trip up the coast. I wanted to see Europe 
next. When we came back to New York I went up 
to Union Hall and told them I'd like to ship across. 
I got my wish. They sent me on a Standard Oil 
steamer bound for Eouen. At last I was going to 
France ! 

I liked that country from the start. The first 
sight I had of it was white houses and green fields 



164 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

and church steeples. I was so busy looking at the 
scenery I couldn't do a stroke of work. I got lib- 
erty to go up to Paris, and I saw all of it for two 
francs. I just hopped into one of those little cabs 
and said to the driver ^^Giddap," and he rode me 
around. I didn't miss a thing. 

We went back to Norfolk, where we were quar- 
antined for seven days because a yellow cook we 
had broke out with the same color fever. That 
gave me time to think, and I made up my mind 
that I'd pay off and go up and see my folks. I 
was sixteen then, hard as nails and pretty pros- 
perous. 

Once ashore I bought myself everything from 
patent leather shoes to a derby hat. I wanted 
them to see I'd made good. 

I walked in on them at dinner time. My father 
didn't know me, but my mother did. **It's 
George!" she hollered, then stared at me. But 
father didn't. He wanted to lick me for staying 
away all those years. Mother wouldn't let him, 
though. She wanted to hear all about where I'd 
been. I was glad I could put some money in 



The Wanderlust and the War 165 

the bank for her. I stayed home about two weeks 
and then got so restless I knew I'd better leave 
before they threw me out. 

Well, I let myself in for an adventure that 
time for I went to Halifax, and from there 
shipped on an oil collier bound for Mexico. We 
struck a hurricane and were washed ashore. That 
was my first shipwreck. We had to eat stores out 
of the ship's supplies, which were pretty low at 
the time. I didn't like the looks of things and I 
decided to foot it into Tampico, which we figured 
wasn't more than forty- two miles south of us. 

Eight of my mates and I figured that by travel- 
ing toward the sun, we'd make it in a couple of 
days. We packed our grub and put on the good 
heavy Dutch sea boots we wore in heavy weather, 
and set out through the woods. 

Hot ! Say, your head blistered under your cap. 
We struck a swamp, but we were afraid to go 
back — ^it was just as bad as going forward — so 
we started through, but we miscalculated, for we 
spent a whole day and night in there before we 
got our bearings. 



166 Over the Seas for Uncl e Sam 

We climbed the branches of the trees at nights 
and slept as best we could in them. But two of 
the fellows caught the jungle fever, and one of 
them died before we could get him out. We buried 
him there and marked the place. 

Another man was pretty sick, and I remem- 
ber reading somewhere that sassafras root was 
good for fever. We found some growing there, 
and we managed to build a fire — ^but we didn't 
have matches to light it, so we struck flints until 
we got a blaze. We cooked the root and gave 
him the juice. It saved him. 

On the outskirts of the swamp we saw a little 
Mexican house. It was the greatest sight I ever 
want to see. The woman was cooking some kind 
of meat over her fire. We didn't stop to inquire 
what it was so long as it was f-o-o-d. That was 
enough for us. She was glad to give us all she 
had, because American money goes big down 
there. Several of the men stayed to look after 
our sick mate, but I hot-footed it into Tampico 
to find the consul and try to get back to the States. 
I found him but he couldn't do anything for us. 



The Wanderlust and the War 167 

I didn't care nrach. It was a pleasant country, 
so I decided to stay. I was there six months. At 
last I grew tired of everlasting hot weather so I 
asked a skipper on an English ship if he'd take 
me back to the States. I told him I didn't care 
about the pay, just so long as I got home. That 
impressed him and he signed me up for a quarter 
a month. He couldn't have paid me less, but what 
difference did it make to me? Wasn't I getting 
out of that all-fired hot country? 

We docked at Baltimore. I was pretty seedy, 
so I took the first job I could get, which was 
night watchman on the docks. Then I wired my 
mother that I was stranded without clothes or 
money. She sent it double quick. I knew she 
would. 

Once I was outfitted I applied for a third mate's 
job. I had already made my license, although I 
was only seventeen. The hard thing was getting 
any skipper to believe I knew all I claimed I 
did. I found one at last. I told him to fire any 
questions at me he could think of. He sure did. 
He asked me things a chief has to know and I 



168 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



came through. He took me on as third and I paid 
off at New York. 

When I reached there I went to the seamen's 
Bethal, where I got clothes and the chance to ship 
on an English vessel bound for the other side. 
That was in 1915. The German subs had started 
their little game of hide-and-seek, but we didn't 
expect any trouble. However Fritz was waiting 
for us. It was about six o'clock in the evening, 
dark, with a full moon. I was on deck watching 
the moonlight on the water. It's a sight I never 
get tired of. All was quiet except the throbbing 
of our own engines, when suddenly we felt the 
blow that ripped her side open. A torpedo had 
registered a hit. 

We couldn't see the sub; she had gotten in the 
moon's rays, and it was impossible to make her 
out. We didn't try. The order, '* abandon ship," 
had sounded, but I didn't make a lifeboat ; instead 
I dived oif the side of the ship and swam around 
in the water for a few minutes before somebody 
heard me yelling and yanked me in. 

Next morning an English schooner picked us 



The Wanderlust and the War 169 



up and we went ashore. Say, but I was mad 
through to think of a blinking submarine sinking 
a neutral. I never was neutral from that minute, 
and when we got into the war I went in the 
navy. I knew that would be the one place I'd 
have a chance to take a shot at the Kaiser's pets. 

We carried a big cargo over; our cargo line 
was 'way down. "We had a lot of green hands 
aboard, ** hay-shakers," I call them. Some of the 
boys were pretty seasick. I bet they wished they 
had never started across. 

Well, we delivered our cargo and started back, 
when sure enough, one dark night, we got it again. 
This time, though, I was standing under the 
bridge, and in the explosion a piece of rail was 
hurled against me that broke both legs. 

A big Swede, who had always a hand out to 
help everybody, hoisted me into a lifeboat, but in 
launching it was smashed up. I was in the water 
and I certainly thought my last hour had come, 
but I found the big Swede was swimming beside 
me, and he dragged me onto a piece of board float- 
ing by. I lay there until it was light and in answer 



170 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

to our S. 0. S.J American destroyers came on and 
picked up our boats. Was I glad to see the good 
old American flag? Was I! I didn't know much 
when they hauled me aboard — the pain was pretty 
bad, but they sent me to a hospital over there, and 
before long I was around again, fine as ever. 
Takes more than a German sub to keep me 
down. 

I went back to the States in style on a trans- 
port. As I always carried my Union book I had 
no trouble in getting another new outfit, once I 
reached my home port. I set out for France on 
a cargo vessel. Well, say, it was clear sailing over. 
We met our convoy and they hoisted up their sig- 
nal flag. We were all of two hours making it out. 
At last we could read it, it spelled : 

'^What are you doing, — ^bringing Brooklyn 
Bridge over with you?" They were making fun 
of our queer-shaped bridge. Well, we started 
back, but I know things always happened in threes 
so I was pretty sure we'd get it going home. I 
was right. 

It was my watch, late in the afternoon. I was 



The Wanderlust and the War 171 

keeping a sharp lookout when I saw the torpedo 
scudding toward ns. 

'*Wake of a torpedo in starboard bow!" I 
yelled. Say, that vessel wheeled like a streak — 
and the torpedo missed. But the next one didn't. 
Bing! — I felt the big ship quiver under me, and 
the explosion that followed blew me so high that 
I came down in the paint locker with my arm 
under me. 

You'd think I'd be used to torpedoing by this 
time, and could keep my sea legs under fire, but 
I didn't. I'm getting better though, and I'm 
waiting to get a shot at Fritz that will send him 
where he'll stay for a while. I certainly am glad 
every time I hear we've sunk one of them, but I 
always wish I was one of the crew of that lucky 
ship. 



CHIEF NUESE STEVENS 
SPEAKS: 



UNDER THE RED CROSS BANNER 

I was educated abroad. That's how I came to 
love France and England almost as well as my 
own country. I was in my teens when I returned 
to America. I had always wanted to be a nurse. 
Even while at school I longed for the days when I 
should be old enough to begin training. It was my 
calling, and, when I left school, I answered it. 

I trained in France, England and America. I 
had practised but a short while when I married. 
My husband was a surgeon, and from him I 
learned more of nursing than I could ever hoped 
to have acquired from text-books. We were al- 
ways together. We played and worked and trav- 
eled all over the world. When he died, it was like 
a great light going out. I did not know where to 
turn — I did not know what to do. Even to this 
day I cannot get used to his being away from 
me. It always seems as though he were on one of 
his professional trips and would return. 

175 



176 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



And then in 1914, just six months after his death, 
war came, and I knew that my place was in France, 
so I sailed at once and enlisted in the nnrsing 
corps. 

Those were the days before the great base hos- 
pitals were established — the days when the dead 
and wounded were left in piles awaiting such care 
as could be given them by the handful of over- 
worked doctors and nurses. 

It was there I found my **son." We had come 
to a group of white-faced boys — the mark of death 
on their brow. Lying a little apart from the others 
was a young Frenchman. He had an ugly shrap- 
nel wound on his shoulder. He was unconscious 
when we found him, but he was so appealing, so 
young, that my heart went out to him. His clothes 
were stained with dirt and blood, and the mud 
was caked on his cheek, where he had fallen. 

When we moved in^ he opened his eyes. 
* ' Maman, ' ' he said, and smiled at me. I think that 
was what won me completely. 

I watched over his convalescence and learned 
that his own mother was not living, so when he 




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Under the Red Cross Banner 17T 

was well once more and ready to return to duty, I 
adopted him as my ^'flls de guerre/' and to this 
day I hear from him twice a month — ^and such let- 
ters ! Full of his battles and his play at the rest 
billets — ^his dreams and his hopes. He is France 
at her best, with the love of youth and life and 
country in his heart. 
There were sights on that battlefield you never 

forget — ^never. It was the bodies of Frenchwomen 
left dead by the Germans that haunt me — the 

women they dragged from captured France and 
took with them to their trenches. We used to 
thank God when we came upon these girls that we 
found them dead. At least these few were out of 
their unfathomable depths of misery at last. 

After ten months of nursing in France, the doc- 
tors ordered a rest — no — commanded it, so I left 
the service and went to England to visit an old 
schoolmate, now married. Her husband was at 
the front, but her father, a peer, whose name is 
a great one in England, lived with her. 

He had known me since childhood. He was very 
fond of me. He was a man of great importance to 



178 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

the govenunent, but he had a delightful way of 
dropping all the cares of State, once he reached 
home, and of romping with his two tiny grandsons 
whom he adored. 

In their home I found the quiet I craved, and, 
as I grew stronger, I longed to get back once more 
to duty. I knew so well the desperate need for 
trained workers. My friends sensed my growing 
restlessness and Violet's father spoke of it at 
dinner one evening. 

**Why not join the British army?" he asked 
me. **I'll try to get you a good post." 

There were a number of guests present, and, as 
Sir Arthur sat quite far from me, I did not catch 
what he had said. But Violet had. She leaned 
across and called to me. 

**You aren't listening to father — ^he means 
you." I turned toward him eagerly. ** Why not 
join the British ranks?" he repeated. **You say 
you feel fit again and want to get out there. "Well, 
I'll give you a chance to prove it." 

I didn't believe he half meant it, for his eyes 
twinkled ; but I caught at it. 

**I cannot get to the front soon enough to please 



Under the Red Cross Banner 179 

me, ' ' I cried. * ' Just try me and see, ' ' and no more 
was said about it. 

The days passed and the lovely English summer 
changed into autumn. I felt splendidly. One day 
I came in from a long walk. I glowed with health. 
I just knew that I could not remain idle another 
instant. I found Violet in the nursery with her 
babies. I told her I must go. She laughed 
at me. 

* * So long as you feel that way, it's fortunate this 
letter came for you this morning, isn't it!" and 
she laid in my hands a long, official-looking docu- 
ment, bearing the royal coat-of-arms in one cor- 
ner. I tore it open. It was a command to appear 
before the Matron-in-Chief of her Majesty's army. 
I knew by the time that I had finished reading it 
that Sir Arthur was responsible in a large meas- 
ure. He was well aware of the fact that no neu- 
tral could serve in the Allied armies unless by 
royal order. I flew to the office of the Matron-in- 
Chief. My knees knocked together. Could I qual- 
ify in her eyes for a post at the front ? 

What transpired seemed like a golden dream to 
me. I was appointed Chief Nurse — or Matron, as 



180 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

they call ns Over There — of a hospital ship hold- 
ing four thousand beds ! I did not show my inward 
tremors. If it could be done, I was going to do it 
— -I, an American — and what was more I was go- 
ing to make those British nurses on my staff love 
me in spite of themselves. I dared not think how 
afraid I was to tackle it. I just kept saying, ^'I'll 
do it ! I've got to, so I can. ' ' 

I returned to Violet and dropped in a heap on 
a couch. 

* 'What's happened I " she demanded — and I told 
her. She listened, her eyes like stars. 

''How splendid! You can do it if anyone in the 
world can! You've proved your worth in France. 
Oh, I am so happy that you are to look after our 
poor boys!" 

Sir Arthur came in at this moment. I knew by 
his smile that he had been listening. 

''Well, well, so you are to be a Matron, are 
you f " he teased. I nodded. I was past speech. 

"Perhaps you don't know that you will be ga- 
zetted as Major in the British army as well. That 
will probably be your official rank." 



Under the Red Cross Banner 181 

And a major I became on my floating hospital. 
I felt strangely alone at first. The only American 
among so many English. For the first time in my 
life I longed for my compatriots. Then one day 
as we lay at anchor in the harbor, I saw, some dis- 
tance away, a battleship flying from her mast the 
Stars and Stripes. I began to cry, I was so glad to 
see my own flag again. I asked our wireless oper- 
ator if he wonld send her a message. 

*^Will you ask an American officer aboard the 
Man-o'-War to come aboard the British Hospital 
ship and speak with an American woman T' The 
instrument snapped the message. The battleship 
caught it, and, a few hours later, I saw an Ameri- 
can Naval officer for the first time in over a year. 

I had never met him before, but I was so glad 
to talk with him of our own land that I dreaded 
the time when he must return to his ship. He went 
at length, and I followed him with my binoculars. 
It gave me a warm feeling around my heart to 
have a Yankee ship so close by. 

Once I started to work in earnest, I found that 
my nurses were eager to cooperate with me in 



182 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

every way. Instead of resenting my authority 
over them, they were anxious to help me, and the 
fear I felt of my ability to handle this great task 
was swallowed up by the mountains of work before 
me. There was no time to fear or to rejoice. 
There was no time for self, with four thousand 
souls aboard who needed caring for each hour of 
the day and night. For our ship was loaded with 
the wounded from that desperate fighting in the 
Dardanelles. 

There were a great per cent who came to us 
with hands and feet cruelly frozen, from the weeks 
and even months in icy trenches. Then there were 
shell-shock cases. One which appealed to us all 
was of a chaplain, adored by his regiment. 
Through the heaviest fire he had stood by his 
flock with no thought for his own safety. An ex- 
ploding shell had brought on that strange state 
of aphasia. He did what he was told to do do- 
cilely and quietly, but he remembered nothing that 
had gone before. 

He was sent back to London, his mind still 
clouded. I used to think of him of ten— his quiet, 



Under the Red Cross Banner 18B 

studious face and soldierly bearing and his eyes 
with their eternal question in them, which none 
of us could answer for him. 

Months later I saw him again. The government 
was in need of a matron to take charge of a f our- 
hundred-and-fifty-bed ship bound for South Af- 
rica. Fierce battles were raging in Mesopotamia. 
I was selected for the task. I had eight nurses and 
a hospital corps of fifty. 

As I came aboard her, I saw a familiar figure 
standing by the gang-plank. I caught my breath. 
It was the chaplain himself. There he stood, smil- 
ing quietly, with hands outstretched. 

'*I am going with you, Matron," he told me, **to 
care for the boys. ' ' 

He was well once more and back again in the 
field. 

Malaria was rampant in Africa. Our ship ex- 
ceeded capacity by over a hundred cases — men 
with raging fevers. Working at top speed, we 
could not bathe them all, and cold baths alone could 
save them. 

The convalescent officers helped us. We worked 



184 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



like machines. Some of the nurses caught the 
tropical fever, too, but they stuck by their post. 
They did not dare give in. There were too many 
sick and dying men calling for them. I have known 
those girls to stand on their feet when their own 
temperatures ranged between 103 and 104 degrees. 
They laughed at the idea of giving in. They 
couldn't. That was all. 

You have heard of the brutality of the Turk. 
Let me tell you he is gentle compared to the 
ferocity of the Germans. We lay at anchor near 
Salonika. The Turks were on one side of the Gulf, 
the British on the other. More than once I have 
seen the Turks hoist a white flag to us, and, when 
we have at length replied to it with our flag of 
truce, they have sent an envoy aboard. Always, 
he desired to parley with the Matron instead of 
with the Commander, and I would be summoned to 
receive his message. 

'*Mem Sahib," he would say, "wq are about to 
open fire on the British. You will move your ship 
about fifty yards. You will then be out of dan- 
ger." He would bow and return to his regiment, 



Under the Red Cross Banner 185 

giving us ample time to move before the great 
gnns roared once more. 

But the Germans ! To bomb a field hospital or 
shell an ambulance, or sink a Eed Cross ship is a 
triumph for them ! 

It was three o'clock one morning. We lay in 
the Mediterranean. An accident case needed in- 
stant care. I ran to prepare the *Hheater," as we 
call the, operating room. The patient was treated 
and had been lifted to a stretcher when the Huns ' 
torpedo struck us. 

Then came the crash, the sudden trembling of 
the ship and the sudden dreadful listing. We car- 
ried the man to the deck, scrambling up as best we 
could. The engine had not been struck, but the 
stern was shattered. Every man who was able 
to, reached the deck with life-belt on, and the 
nurses and doctors flew to the rescue of those be- 
low. 

We carried them all on deck, and the Com- 
mander faced us quietly. 

*'The boats on the port side are smashed, and 
those on starboard cannot be lowered." 



186 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

There was not a sound for a full moment after 
he spoke, as the awful truth dawned upon us. 
Then his voice rang out : 

** There is only one chance — to jump for your 
lives. ' ' 

Jump for your lives ! I looked at the men who 
were too ill to be moved, who lay unconscious, with 
flushed cheeks and closed eyes. Jump for our 
lives! What chance had they? Truly the Boches 
could take toll that night if they counted sick and 
wounded men and Eed Cross nurses as fair 
prey. . . . 

The Commander shouted to us: *'Jump feet 
first. Watch out — jump feet first." 

We had practised doing it in the tank on the 
way over. With life-belts on, it is the only way of 
preserving your balance. 

The men were dragging out tables and tearing 
up planks for rafts. They hurled them into the 
water, and little groups of them climbed the rail, 
stood poised an instant above the black depths be- 
low them — ^then leaped down. . . . 

The voices of hundreds of struggling men rang 



Under the Red Cross Banner 187 

in on our ears and we were helpless to aid them. 

The Commander called the nnrses to him. 

* * You go next, ' ' he told them. * ' The Matron and 
I will jump last. ' ' 

They were the bravest, coolest lot of girls I have 
ever seen. They climbed the rail, hand in hand. 
They hesitated a second — ^with a shudder at what 
lay before them, then they leaped forward. . . . 
I could not look. Only the Commander and I re- 
mained. He drew me to the rail. 

*'I can't do it," I cried, drawing back. But he 
was very firm. 

**Come," he said quietly, '4t will soon be too 
late.'' 

He helped me up. My heart was thumping like 
a trip-hammer in my breast. I could not — ^I could 
not — could not jump. He drew me down suddenly. 
I lost my footing and plunged after him. The 
water closed over me. It seemed hours before I 
came to the top. For a long time I could not move. 
At length I began to swim. I knew enough to get 
as far away as I could from the suction that would 
draw me as the ship sank. 



188 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



Three hours later patrols picked us up. 

And yet, I love the water. If I am ashore and 
cannot sleep, I pretend my room is a cabin and 
that I am on a quietly rocking sea. That is why I 
entered the Navy nurse corps of my country when 
she declared war on Germany. 

So I have served under three flags since war 
was declared, and at last — at last I am under my 
own! 



GUNNER'S MATE M 'QUIRE 
SPEAKS: 



^'ABANDON SHIP!" 

Me father was always talkin' about the old coun- 
try. Sure and he said there was no thin' in the 
whole of America to compare with a comer of 
County Cork ! We kids used to poke fun at him, 
but I'm confessin' it made us kinder hanker to see 
that land ourselves. 

He was after claimin' that the grass was 
greener there than anywhere else on earth and the 
sky bluer. As a kid I planned to run away and 
ship over there just to see if the old man was 
givin' it to us straight. But it was to Canada I 
drifted, and, because I have more inches than most 
men, the Northwest Moimted sent me an engraved 
invitation askin' me to join them, which I did for 
six years. 

Sure, it's a great way to spend your days, ridin' 
through snow and ice or mud and mosquitoes — ac- 
cordin' to the season — after the gang of outlaws 
runnin' loose up there. But it was always wor- 

191 



192 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

Tjin% the wife was, for fear I conldn't shoot quick 
enough and they'd get the drop on me. She'd tell 
me that it was the kid she was considerin' — she 
w^asn't wantin' to bring him up without a father. 
She'd say he was too big a handful for her to 
manage, then get around me by claimin' he was a 
chip off the old block all right — all right. 

So I give up me post in the Northwest and set- 
tled down in Winnipeg. Then the war came and 
I could see reasons all over the place for me 
joinin' up at once. First of all, though me coun- 
try was America, me home was in Canada and I 
knew that nine-tenths of the Canucks would be 
friends of mine. Then secondly, wasn't I Irish, 
which meant gettin' into any scrap that was goin', 
I so help me? 

Well, the wife held me back at the start. She 
kept coaxin' me to bide a bit. She argued the 
States wasn't in trouble yet, so I listened with one 
ear, but with the other I was hearin' from all sides 
about the greatest free-for-all fight in the world 's 
history, and I knew that me, Patrick M 'Quire, had 
no business to be standin' by. 




OP 

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'Abandon Shipr 193 



The wife wasn't well and she was always 
frettin' at the thought of me enlistin', so I told 
her I'd wait, but I warned her that it was entirely 
responsible she'd be if Germany tied the Allies in 
a show-down. I told her I was a sharpshooter 
with a record in the Northwest to be proud of. I 
asked her why she was keepin' me back. Sure, 
I demanded what business she had to be hamperin' 
the Allies' chances like that! 

Well, me humor fell on deaf ears and I 
stayed until me own country, the United States 
of America, declared war, and that same after- 
noon, by the grace of God, I walked meself up, 
bought tickets for the States, packed me family 
aboard and two days later joined the navy. 

It's compromisin' I was when I joined. I told 
the wife that the fear of trenches or gas attacks 
need never enter her heart, but I knew as well as 
me own name the danger on the seas of Fritz get- 
tin' playful and stickin' a torpedo in your ribs — 
but why worry her 1 

Better than me prayers I knew firearms. I 
could take a rifle apart and put it together again 



194 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

with me eyes closed. I had had as many machine 
guns jam on me as the next fellow. I was entirely 
qualified to be a gunner's mate, which, I assure 
you, I wasted no time becomin'. 

They shipped me over on a British auxiliary — a 
cargo ship. For the two months they held me at 
the trainin' station. The wife had been knittin' 
and knittin'! If I'd been bound straight for the 
North Pole I couldn't be after havin' more hel- 
mets or sweaters or socks or wristlets than she 
sent me. Whist! how these women do slave for 
us. It was asMn' her not to, that I did at first, 
until I saw it was givin' her the only mite of pleas- 
ure she could squeeze out of me goin' away. 
Women is like that. They wants to be babyia' 
their men folks until the end of the story. 

What I valued most of all was a picture she had 
taken with the kid. That nearly finished me. I 
was after winkin' and blinkin' over it like an old 
fool parted from his senses. But she looked so 
sweet smilin' at me there and the kid looked so 
clean it almost broke me up. 

I set sail on a warm June day. There was no 



'Abandon SMpr 195 



chance to go home and say good-bye. In a way 
I was glad of that. She was, too. It's rongh 
weather we had all the way and plenty of work, 
hut I liked the life. I was hard as nails. I was 
strong from bein' outdoors twenty-nine years of 
me thirty. Weather didn't worry me — rain or 
shine was all the same. 

We came to the Zone. ' ' Aha ! ' ' says I to meself , 
**so this is the patch Fritz has picked to try his 
luck with ns as a target!" I kept wishin' for a 
sight of him. Sure, I stayed awake nights wor- 
ryin' for fear the convoy sent out to meet us would 
be so good it would scare all the subs away. It 
was nearin' the point where we expected the sub 
chasers to meet us that I got me wish. 

It was about five in the afternoon with the sun 
goin' down like a red balloon, when we sighted a 
raft with a barrel propped up at one end. There 
were two fellows aboard her, in a bad way from 
the looks of them, stripped to their waists, wavin' 
their shirts to us for help. 

We had been after hearin' how dangerous it 
was to stop your engine in the Zone and rescue 



196 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

survivors, but good God ! who 'd have the heart to 
pass those poor fellows by! Perhaps they had 
wives and kids at home same as us. We drew up 
about five hxmdred yards from them and started 
to lower the boat when the raft rose out of the 
water and turned over and the men dived off. 
Under it we saw the deck of a submarine, the bar- 
rel still on her periscope. 

It's trapped we were by her dirty trick! She 
struck us amidships and then submerged. There 
wasn't time to fire. We were sinkin' stern first. 
The boats were swung down and I started to get 
into me own when I remembered the wife's pic- 
ture! Sure, I had to have it! There wasn't no 
two ways about it. I just wouldn't get off the ship 
without it. Someone called to me to come on. 
Someone pulled me arm. But I tore it loose. 

*^It's goin' back I am," I told him. 

'^You're crazy! Shell be down in four min- 
utes." 

*'I tell you, it's goin' back I am . . ." 

And he let me go. I guess he thought he 'd done 
his best to save a poor loon. All hands were on 



'Abandon Shipr 197 



deck. I made for the hatchway and found it fillin' 
with water. The furniture was floatin ' around like 
the little toys the kid puts in the bath tub. 

I fought me way to me bunk. Over it I'd nailed 
the picture. I felt with me hands until I found it. 
I tore it off the wall and stuffed it in me shirt, then 
I started out. The water was clean up to me waist 
and pourin' in. The force of it sent the chairs and 
tables crashin' against the wall. I dodged them 
and found the stairs. They were submerged. It's 
on me hands and knees I crawled, until I reached 
the top. The water poured in on me. 

I found the deck deserted. I looked down. A 
few boats were bobbin' on the waves. I dived off. 
When I came up it did me eyes good to see a boat 
a few yards away. I swam toward it and they 
pulled me in. A seaman named Doyle and another 
called Hooper were good strokes. They rowed all 
eighteen of us away out when the cruiser went 
down. 

About a hundred yards from us was a 
boat full of our officers. It was decidin' to follow 
them we were, when the submarine came to sur- 



198 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

face again. She was after knowin' whicli boat 
held officers, too — ^no doubt abont that, because she 
trained her machine gun on the lot of them with- 
out wastin' time, and opened fire. Yes, by God! 
shootin' on men adrift in a lifeboat I 

That's a sample of Hun fightin' I won't forget 
in a hurry! I'd have given me life and that of 
all me dear ones just then for a chance to cut the 
throats of those cool devils on her deck, pumpin' 
death into that boat load of helpless young- 
sxers* • • • 

We expected to get it next and it's ready for 
them we were. I hoped with all me heart and soul 
that they'd come close enough to hear the names 
I was callin' them. But they didn't honor us — 
not them. They figured that we were all enlisted 
men, not worth wastin' a shot on, for they sub- 
merged. 

It was growin' dark, but there was still light 
enough for us to take stock of our fodder. All 
lifeboats are weU equipped — ^provided with ten 
gallon barrels of water, and with tins of bacon and 
crackers. It's glad to find the food and water we 



'Abandon Shipr 199 



were. Tlie chances were pretty fair of our bein' 
rescued in a day or two. That was good, seein' 
we hadn't a compass and most of us was green. 
We couldn't, even pick the stars and none of us 
knew seamanship. 

We could do nothin' but wait until mornin' and 
pray for the sight of a sail. Mornin' came. We 
were stiff, 'part from wet clothes and 'part from 
the hard boards on which we'd been lyin'. 

There were four boys aboard — ^just kids, not 
more than eighteen or nineteen. It's game they 
were, all right. They were the life of that gang. 
It's *' Cheer up, they'll find us to-day," they'd tell 
us. 

One of them was bubblin' over with spirits. He 
was a big, blond kid called Terry. He was one of 
the gun's crew and I'd liked him from the start. 
He appointed himself C. P. O. in charge of the 
chow and dished out the crackers and bacon to us, 
jokin' about our table de bote and sayin' he'd try 
to do better next meal. 

Some of the older men aboard shook their heads 
over the way we was eatin'. 



200 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

**Better hold back on the rations and water," 
they warned ns. **We ain't rescued yet/' 

But we laughed them down. We felt sure some 
ship must have caught our S. 0. S. the night be- 
fore. It stood to reason help was hurryin' toward 
us. 

"We took turns scannin' the horizon. It wasn't 
hard, because the sky was cloudy. We didn't say 
so, but it's hopin' we were that there wouldn't be 
a squall. It wasn't long before the water grew 
choppy and a mist came up. Some of the men were 
glooms for fair. 

**Fog risin'. We couldn't see a ship if she was 
alongside of us," they growled. 

The boys wouldn't be downed. 

*'We'll shout just to show them we're here,'' 
they said, and, at intervals all that long night, 
their voices rang out, but no answer did we get. 

Along toward mornin' it began to rain in ear- 
nest. We caught the raindrops in our mouths. 
We decided to start economizin' in water. It 
cleared up the third day and the sun came out. It 
burned our wet faces. Some of the men slept, but 



'Abandon Ship!" 201 



most of us kept a lookout. Help must be comin' 
soon. We didn't know in wliat direction land lay. 
Sure, we 'd pull toward the north, then hold a coun- 
cil and decide it was the wrong way after all, so 
we 'd start off due east. But we didn 't row as hard 
as we had the first day — ^not by a long sight. Some 
of the men were against goin' away too far from 
the place where our ship went down. 

*'If we'd stayed around there we'd have been 
picked up by now. ' ' 

The men were gettin' sulky, blamin' each other. 

**Sure, if you'd listened to me " we all 

started off. 

Only Terry didn't get sore. He and the other 
three kids wouldn't give up hopin'. 

*'0h, they'll find us by another day, " he'd grin. 
"What's bitin' you all?" 

The fourth day dawned and slipped by. No 
help. The fifth day came, and with it a storm that 
tossed our boat from the crest of one big wave to 
another. The water washed over us in torrents. 
We bailed like madmen to keep afloat at all. 

Sure, now, it's queer when you come to think 



202 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

of it, how hard men will work just to keep that 
little spark of life inside of them. With no hope 
in view they won 't give np while there is strength 
in them to go on with the fight. 

We proved it through those days of black hor- 
ror, in an open boat on a sea full of salt water. 
That was the awful fact that stared us in the face 
as the days slid by — no gettin' away from it — a 
certain knowledge that the water in those barrels 
was gettin' lower and lower. 

Six days — seven days — eight days . . . Over a 
week adrift, drenched to your skin all the time, 
cold as ice at nights and hot as fire by day. Crack- 
ers and bacon . . . bacon and crackers . . . and 
not enough of either to last much longer — and 
then what ? . . . 

We didn't talk much. Even the kids, when they 
weren't asleep in a sort of stupor, would stare out 
at sea. Then on one mornin' we made out smoke 
on the horizon! It was an hour of rejoicin'. We 
were that wild with joy we stood up and yelled 
until our voices cracked. We raised our wet shirts 
on an oar and waved them, but it was no use. 



'Abandon Ship!" 203 



The smoke vanished, they had never seen ns. 

Some of the men sat down and cried like babies. 
I wanted to, God knows, but it's responsible I felt 
for those youngsters. Now snpposin', I'd keep 
tellin' meself, that one of them was me own kid. 
Would I be after lettin' him see that I'd be givin' 
up all hope? Not much I wouldn't, so I tried to 
'cheer them along. 

Half a cup of water a day was each man's por- 
tion. Half a cup, when you're burnin' up with 
thirst and there 's water all around you. Just what 
you're longin' for and it's cool and wet and — salty. 
We knew it would lead to madness to drink that 
stuif , but we all wondered in our hearts how long 
before we would have to. 

AVe found if we sucked on buttons it helped a 
little to keep our dry throats moist, but our 
tongues were swollen and our lips were parched. 

There was a Norwegian aboard. He had been 
torpedoed before. He had great ideas as to what 
we ought to do, but the trouble was he couldn't 
speak English, and none of us knew: Norwegian, 
so we couldn't get him at all. 



204 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

Nine days — ten days — eleven days . . . the 
water in the barrels was down so low that I tried 
rednein' me drink to a quarter of a cup a day. It 
was then I got on to the fact that Terry was actin' 
queer. The Norwegian put me wise. He pointed 
to the ocean and patted his mouth, then he jerked 
his thumb at Terry. I called the boy up sharp. 

'^Drinkin' salt water, eh?" I snapped. 

He looked up. ''What's that to you!" His 
eyes looked hot and feverish, his cheeks were 
flushed. 

''You cut it out,'' I ordered. I almost choked 
as I said it. What if it had been me own kid? 

"All right," he growled. 

But he didn't stop. At night he scooped up cup- 
fuls of it — ^he and the other youngsters, and one 
mornin' we had four ravin', crazy boys on our 
hands. They were stronger than we were and 
when they tried to jump overboard we couldn't 
stop them. We did our best to save them, but they 
fought us with the strength of fiends. We couldn't 
get them back into the boat — ^we lost all four of 
them. After that I don't remember much. 



'Abandon Shipr 205 



For two weeks the water held out, but we were 
afloat four days longer. We were semi-conscious 
by that time — ^nothin' troubled us. 

An English fishin' smack picked us up and took 
us to a lighthouse, off the Irish coast. When I 
came to I found meself bein' fed water a spoonful 
at a time. Sure, I couldn't take more if I wanted 
to, me tongue was that thick. I stayed there three 
weeks, when they sent me to Ireland and I lay in 
hospital there for a month. From the windows I 
could see the treetops and a glimpse of the 
heavens, but do you know it seemed to me that the 
sky in America was a heap bluer and the leaves a 
world greener and, oh, how I wished for a sight 
of the wife and the kid ! 

So they brought me home and here I am. I'm 
not after sayin' me father was a prevaricator — ^no, 
indeed! But I am sayin' that where your folks is 
there will your heart be also, and, take it from me, 
the fellow who wrote, *^ There's no place like 
home" knew what he was talkin' about! There 
ain't — ^be it County Cork or old New York! 



CHIEF PHAEMACIST'S MATE 
HALL SPEAKS: 




Marines on the job — manning the anti-aircraft 

guns. 



PEISONERS OF WAR 

I want to be a doctor, that's why when the war 
came I turned to the Hospital Corps. I had heard 
of the advantages you derive from the instruction 
and the experience you get in that branch of serv- 
ice, and, besides, I liked the crowd of men going 
in for it. One high school had its whole football 
team in the corps. I figured if it was good enough 
for a star quarter-back it was good enough for 
yours truly. 

I went in as an apprentice, of course, but I soon 
got onto the fact that I needn't stay one for the 
rest of my life if I really wanted to get ahead. 
Naturally it meant work and lots of it, but why 
stay in the **pick-and-shovel" class if you don't 
have to ? 

You see, advancement entailed certain respon- 
sibility. To be a pharmacist's mate third class, 
you are supposed to be of immediate value to the 
medical officer in the sick bay of a ship. Once 

209 



210 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



you are a pharmacist's mate second class, you are 
supposed to take charge of a Hospital Corps man's 
work on board ship, and in case the medical offi- 
cer is away for the time being. But to be a phar- 
macist mate first class, it may be up to you to take 
charge of the medical department of a ship to 
which no medical officer is attached. 

I went to it. I don't suppose I ever worked so 
hard in my entire life. But I didn't see the use 
of being in a corps and staying down in the coal 
hole when there was plenty of room on top. 

Our duties could be summed up briefly: we 
nursed the sick, and administered first aid to acci- 
dent cases. Some of us were to accompany expe- 
ditionary forces to the front and give first aid to 
the wounded, beside assisting at surgical opera- 
tions. That was about all we had to do, except to 
look after the medical stores and property, and 
know all there was to know about compounding 
medicine. 

But one of the things I liked best about it was 
a certain fact that was brought out strongly — ^we 
were in the service to save lives. Get that into 



Prisoners of War 211 

your head ! It was drummed into ours. We began 
to think we were privileged people because, while 
we were in the war, it just happened to be our job 
to save life instead of taking it 

I don't mean by that that we wouldn't relish a 
chance to get a crack at Fritz, the killer of women 
and babes, but our official task happened to be 
helping poor chaps back who had been laid low by 
a piece of Hun steeL 

Once I had got my rating, I was told to report 
for duty on a destroyer. That just about suited 
me. I had been scared to death that they'd hold 
me at a base hospital, with no chance to cross the 
briny deep, and I went in search of my chum to 
say good-bye. 

He was a quiet sort of chap, with a pair of horn- 
rimmed glasses that won for him the name of 
* * Specs. ' ' He was as funny off duty as a goat, but 
the best corps man I have ever seen on his job. 
We were always together. We had plugged 
through the course together, and worried about 
the exams together, and we had hoped that fate 
would be kind to us and send us across on the same 



212 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

ship. But nothing doing. I parted from him with 
all kinds of promises to write and went aboard the 
destroyer. 

The first man I saw on deck was ' ' Specs, ' ' dou- 
ble glasses and all. I couldn^t believe my eyes. I 
stared at him like a fool. And by cracky, it turned 
out to be his brother, who was coxswain and 
enough like ** Specs" to pass for himself. Well, 
needless to say. Trace and I hit it up from the 
word go. 

We had a few accident cases which kept me 
fairly busy going over, but as we came nearer the 
Zone I got the fever that runs in every man's blood 
to catch a sight of Fritz. There were some fellows 
aboard who had crossed a half-dozen times with- 
out a squint at a submarine and with nothing 
fiercer to take a shot at than a sleepy whale. 

We were escorting a merchant ship flotilla — a 
whole flock of us. It had been an exciting day all 
right ! Early that morning, while it was yet dark, 
we had made out what seemed to us to be a ring of ' 
little lights upon the water. Take it from me, we 
don't rush in on anything like that. It may be a 



Prisoners of War 21^ 

German's coy trap for blowing yon sky high. But 
we snre were cnrions and we circled the lights 
swiftly, by no means certain but that every minnte 
wonld be our last. As we approached them we 
made them out. They were lifeboats full of men 
signaling wildly for help. 

We flew to their rescue and picked them up. 
The lot of them were half frozen and barely able 
to tell us the old story of Fritz 's stab in the dark. 
I had some work to do then! There were frost- 
bitten hands and feet and ears to care for, and 
chills and fever to ward off. I worked over them 
for hours. We found out that they were the crew 
of a British cargo ship and as soon as it was 
light we landed them at a nearby port and set out 
to sea again. 

It was a wild morning. The wind had risen to 
what was fast becoming a gale. Think of a gale 
at sea in November ! Icy waves sweep your deck 
and toss your ship about like a ball in the 
water. No chance to cook a mouthful, as noth- 
ing would stay on the range long enough— hard- 
tack for all hands and lucky to get it— stand by as 
best you can in case of a lurking Fritz. 



214 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

The gale grew worse. I had never seen such an 
ugly storm. The sky was almost black and the sea 
was running so high that it seemed as though 
green mountains were crashing down upon us as 
the combers fell. I don't know how we happened 
to weather it, but once the wind died down, we 
saw some distance away a British destroyer, bob- 
bing about aimlessly on that wild sea. Her decks 
had been swept clean, her propellers smashed, her 
wireless gone. She was just a plaything of the 
waves. We went to her rescue. What was left 
of her crew was certainly glad to see us. They 
had given up all hope of help coming before Fritz 
saw her. 

We towed her to her base and on the way we 
caught a signal warning us to keep an extra sharp 
lookout as a cruiser had been sent to bottom by 
a submarine not five miles away. We left the dis- 
abled destroyer at her base and set out for our 
own; it was about four in the afternoon. The 
storm had died down, but the waves still looked 
wicked and the sky was a dirty gray. 

Fritz was laying for us. I suppose he had seen 



Prisoners of War 215 

us taking the destroyer in anr" lie figured we'd 
start for home. I guess he decided to make a good 
day's work of it by sinking us before he sat down 
to dinner. Trace was lookout, and he sighted a 
small periscope some distance off the port bow. 
It extended about a foot out of water and was 
visible only a few seconds, but say, did he let out 
a yell? . . . 

We charged them. Three seconds later we 
dropped a depth charge. That's quick work 
for you. Hot on her trail we were and no mis- 
take ! Another destroyer speeded up too and fol- 
lowed the spray that told which way Fritz was 
heading. Oh, he was still determined to get one 
of us, for he was making straight for a merchant 
vessel in the convoy. We dropped another 
charge. 

At that instant the submarine's conning tower 
appeared on the surface between ourselves and 
the convoy. Did we pump hell into her from our 
stern gun? We did! 

Up came the bow of the submarine. She was 
down by the stern, but righted herself and seemed 



216 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

to increase her speed. We were after her like a 
streak. We fired from our bow gun. That settled 
Fritz. For, after the third shot, the crew of the 
submarine came on deck and surrendered, by 
God! to the U. S. N.! 

The whole thing took exactly ten minutes, but 
it seemed a lifetime to me! 

We approached the submarine to pick up the 
prisoners, while the other destroyers kept their 
batteries trained on the boat. We weren't taking 
any chances, for there's no telling if Fritz, with 
his hands up, won't pull a trigger with his toes. 

We got a line to the submarine, but in a few 
moments she sank. The line was let go and the 
U-boat's crew jumped into the water and swam 
to our ship. All of them wore life preservers, but 
some of the men were exhausted when they reached 
the sHe of our ship, and, as the submarine sank, 
several of them were caught by the radio aerial 
and carried below the surface before they could 
disentangle themselves. 

Ten of the men were so weak that we had to 
pass lines under their arms to haul them aboard. 



Prisoners of War 217 



and one chap was in such a condition that he could 
not hold a line thrown him. I saw him reach for it 
and let it slip through his fingers. I conldn't stand 
it. I climbed the rail, and, before they could stop 
me, I dived in. Someone dived after me. It was 
Trace. He felt like I did seeing a man drown be- 
fore your eyes. More credit was due him, though, 
by a long sight, than me, for his job was coxswain 
while I was in a corps that was supposed to save 
life. Fine corps man I'd have made if, at my first 
chance to rescue a fellow, I'd stood by and let him 
go down ! 

We were hauled aboard with the German be- 
tween us. I've never been so cold in my life. I 
bet you could hear my teeth chatter clear across 
the Atlantic. As for the German, he died in a few 
minutes' time. The reason is plain. I wasn't able 
to give him first aid, being all in myself. I know 
I could have pulled him through. Those other 
chaps were no good at resuscitation. 

We had four German officers and a crew of 
thirty-five prisoners. The first lot taken in this 
war by an American destroyer. 



218 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

We fed up Fritz on hot coffee and sandwiches. 
Our method of handling prisoners is a bit different 
from the Huns. They were a pretty seedy lot, but 
once we had shelled out warm coats and heavy 
clothing to them, they perked up a bit and before 
long the crew began to sing. I listened to them, 
but somehow it made me sick. I had heard how 
they treat our men when they catch them — they 
don't get much chance to sing! 

The German ofi&cers told us that the first depth 
charge had wrecked Fritz's machinery and caused 
him to sink to a considerable depth. If we did say 
so ourselves, we were pretty good shots! 

There wasn't a mark on the submarine that 
gave her away, but the lifebelts did. We got her 
number. We proceeded to port and there turned 
our prisoners over under guard. We felt pretty 
cocky over it. Or rather the crew did who had 
had a real hand in capturing the Germans. I 
hadn't done anything. Why they mentioned me in 
the reports I don't know. I guess they didn't re- 
member about a corps-man's job including the sav- 
ing of life — I did, though. I told you I had studied 
hard ! 



FIREMAN SEYMOUR 
SPEAKS : 



FRITZ GETS TAGGED 

I- BELONG to the Black Gang. You don't hear 
mnch about us because our work keeps us below 
deck, and it's good hard work when you're mak- 
ing twenty knots — ^but I like it. I wouldn 't change 
places with any gun's crew on earth, although they 
have more of a chance for their life if trouble 
comes. We have duties to perform right in our 
quarters in case a ship is struck that keeps us close 
to the engines — there's always danger there — es- 
pecially aboard a coal-burning destroyer — and 
that's what I shipped on. 

There wasn't any keeping me out of the navy. 
We have four honorable discharges hung up in 
our house. I used to show them to my kid. He's 
five, but awful smart. He knows all about them. 

** That's from the War of 1776," he'll say, 
pointing to the first one. 

'*And that's from the Civil War, my great 
Grandpa fought in that." 

221 



222 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

Tke third one is for the Spanish- American. 

**My grandpa fonght in that one," he tells yon. 

And pretty soon, when this scrap is over there 11 
be a fonrth one hanging alongside of the others 
and Bill can look at it and say, **My pop got that 
one in the biggest war of all." 

I only wish the youngster was old enough to en- 
list himself. We're a fighting family. I joined 
the navy in 1915. I was on a battleship then, but 
when war broke they transferred me to a de- 
stroyer. "We didn't go ont until the cold weather 
had set in. All of us were given Arctic outfits and 
it's lucky we were — ^we needed them, believe me! 
You are mighty grateful for the heavy woollen 
pants and the jumper with a hood that covers your 
ears. 

Destroyer duty is the most exciting of all, for, 
while merchant crafts go out of their way to avoid 
submarines, our game is to go out of our way to 
hunt them. It was like a game of hide and seek, 
with a destroyer **It," trying to tag Fritz if he'd 
only give us half a chance. 

One of Fritz's pet stunts was to send us an 



Fritz Gets Tagged 223 

S.O.S., giving us the exact location at sea of a 
vessel in trouble — oh, he was awful careful to see 
that you got it right, all you needed to do was to 
steam up to that spot and be blown clear out of 
creation. 

Of course, all the calls for help weren't false. 
One day we came close enough to see a cargo ship 
in flames, and her crew being ordered over her side 
to open boats. **Burn the cargo and sink the 
ship,'' was Fritz's creed and if you think that be- 
ing set afloat in a life-boat in December is an expe- 
rience you'll forget in a hurry, you're wrong! 

By the time we reached the survivors, half of 
them were dead — frozen where they sat, their 
bodies covered with ice. 

We were on duty every minute of the day and 
night. I don't think any of the crew slept soundly 
for the seven months that we stayed at sea with- 
out ever touching shore. Think of it, seven 
months on a ship that's never still, zig-zagging, 
doubling on its own course — charging any floating 
objects in hopes of downing a Fritz. 

My, but the troopships were glad to see us when 



224 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



we went out to meet them. We'd shoot up along- 
side of them, or cut clean across their bow, playing 
in front of them like a porpoise, as we asked them 
what sort of a trip they had had across and how 
things were going back home. We'd come so 
close to the convoy at times that they conld almost 
reach out and touch us, then we 'd dart away at the 
drop of a hat. 

As Christmas came near, we hoped to touch 
port. We had been promised a Christmas ashore, 
but it seemed we had sudden orders to go out and 
pick up a convoy, so we headed for the open sea 
again. 

Christmas Eve was biting cold. I went up for 
air and I was glad to hurry back to the engine 
room again. It was at least warm down there. 
The men who stood watch on deck were muffled to 
the eyes. I thought of my wife and the kid. I 
wondered if he was hanging up his little stocking 
and saying a prayer for his dad who was at sea. 
I hadn't heard a word from them, of course, since 
I had left home. But on that particular night they 
seemed very close to me. I could almost see our 



Fritz Gets Tagged 225 

little sitting room, with a holly wreath in the win- 
dow. I remembered just the corner where we al- 
ways put up the Christmas tree and I thought of 
the fun we had trimming it and trying not to make 
a breath of noise to wake the kid. All 
this while I realized dimly that the boat was 
pitching harder than ever and my mate broke 
in with : 

^^We're in for a gale to celebrate Christmas 
proper." 

We were, all right ! They say it was the worst 
storm that had been seen oif that coast in many a 
year. It was the highest sea I've ever been on. 
You could scarcely keep your feet, and as for food 
— our Christmas dinner consisted of hard tack and 
lucky we were to get that You couldn't keep a 
thing on the ranges except the stationary kettles. 
They managed to make something that was sup- 
posed to be coffee in those and for twenty-two 
hours that was our chow. 

There were moments through that long night 
when I thought we'd turn clean over. We never 
expected the rudder to hold with those giant 



226 Over the S eas for Uncle Sam 

waves breaking over the deck and turning every- 
thing to ice. 

All the submarines afloat didn't give me the 
feeling of nearness to death that that storm had. 
I certainly was glad when the sea quieted down 
and the sun struggled through the clouds 
again. 

Up to the first of the year we had not had a 
chance to get a shot at Fritz. He had been a bit 
too wily for us, getting in his dirty work before 
we arrived on the spot, leaving a trail of burning 
or sinking ships but no sign of himself. But we 
^ot our revenge. It was in January. We had met 
a string of troop and cargo ships from the States, 
which we were escorting to port. We were so 
near the coast that I guess most of the boys aboard 
were getting their things together preparatory to 
landing. 

It was eight o'clock in the morning and I don't 
suppose any of us really dreamed of a submarine 
turning up sd close to shore, when suddenly the 
shrill whistle from a transi)ort made the air 
around it blue with its noise ! A second later came 



Fritz Gets Tagged 227 

the roar of guns and I knew sure enough that some 
tin fish had welcomed us ! 

I stood by in the engine room, which was my 
place in time of danger, listening with all my ears 
to the boom of our own guns. Oh, we were after 
Fritz all right! 

The rumor drifted in to us that there were ten 
periscopes to be seen, but soon it came down to 
three. The guns from all the ships thundered — 
it was as if a battlefield were transported to the 
Atlantic Ocean. 

The roar of guns deafened you, but you cer- 
tainly got a thrill you never forgot "We worked 
like fiends. We knew they needed speed as never 
before. We were like cats after a mouse. 

Someone sent up a shout and word came that 
oil had begun to show on the water — ^that meant 
one less submarine afloat! Again the roar of 
guns — again the shout! Two Fritzes sxmk. . . ! 

In the midst of the firing came a strange new 
sound — a buzzing overhead. French airships to 
the rescue! They were not more than two hun- 
dred yards above us, dropping bombs as they 



228 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

flew. I listened for the sound of cheering — ^it 
came! A third Fritz snnk. In port the sinking 
was officially verified — ^three German submarines 
destroyed, read the record. Not bad, eh? 

I don't believe a gun on any of the transports 
or destroyers was cold for fully two hours. When 
it was over, I went on deck for a breath of air. 
I was sweating like a horse and shaking all over 
from the strain. The instant I stepped on deck, 
Fritz got a shot at us, splintering our deck and 
taking one of my fingers along as a souvenir. 

Now I ask you, wasn't that rum luck? If I'd 
only stayed below where I belonged, I'd still be 
plus a finger. The ship's doctor finished up the 
job, but I couldn't use that hand, and, believe me, 
it made me sore as anything. I knew I'd miss all 
the sport going by having to be sent home. I tried 
to argue with him. But he wouldn't listen to me 
— ^home I must go. There wasn't any two ways 
about it — orders is orders. 

I traveled back on a transport. I was all right. 
My hand was healing fine. I wanted to stand 
watch on the way across, but they wouldn't let 



Fritz Gets Tagged 229 

me. Treated me like a blooming invalid and gave 
me a month's liberty to get well. Well! I was 
well ten minntes after it happened. 

No, I didn't tell my wife how I lost it. I said 
I'd been mixed up in an accident in the engine 
room. That was pretty near the truth. You can 
slip so easily with the ship pitching and rearing 
that it isn't hard to lose an arm that way. Oh, 
if I was to tell her that a sub carried part of my 
hand away, she'd worry to death about having 
me go to sea again. I'll break it to her after the 
war. Just now there's one thing on my mind — 
just one — ^to get back somehow in the Black Gang. 
I can handle a shovel — ^my arm's a bit stiff yet, but 
I'm all muscle. Believe me, they aren't going to 
shelve me just because one finger's gone ! Not by 
a long sight ! 

I'm not going to miss one minute of this scrap 
if! can help it. My kid's going to be proud of 
my record before I get through — ^wait and see if 
he isn't! 



WAEKANT CAEPENTER HOYT 
SPEAKS: 



THE FLOWER OF FRANCE 

EvEB see those red poppies that grow by the 
roadside in France ? They always make me think 
of Angele. They are so graceful and vivid and 
gay. It almost seems as though they enjoyed 
watching the soldiers march past, they spring up 
so close to the road. All the war that has swept 
through the land has failed to kill the crop. 
You will find innumerable scarlet patches of 
them nodding their brave little heads to the 
boys as they tramp by — cheering them on — for all 
the world like France's daughters — ^bless them! 

I was one of the first Americans to go across 
after our declaration of war on Germany. Those 
were the days when the German propagandists in 
this coxmtry knew more about the movements of 
our fleet than we did ourselves. 

They called upon us formally a way off the 

French coast, with two torpedoes. But they were 

bad shots, so their visiting cards never arrived 

233 



234 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

and we continued onr course without any further 
opportunity of making their acquaintance. 

As we neared the coast the water became clotted 
up with wreckage — boxes and barrels and floating 
planks — ^yes — and bodies, too. IVe never seen a 
sight to equal it and I have crossed eight times all 
told. But in the beginning of the war Fritz was 
pretty active. Never a day passed that we re- 
ceived less than seven or eight S.O.S. calls. Oh, 
Fritz was having it all his own way then. We Ve 
changed all that — rather ! 

I'll never forget the little French port where 
we dropped anchor. Nothing I can ever see in the 
years to come — ^with the exception of the Allied 
flags floating over the Kaiser's palace in Berlin — 
will equal the thrill I got from watching the first 
khaki-clad Yankees marching up that narrow 
street to the tune of Yankee Doodle ! 

I kept wondering who the dickens I was, to be 
privileged to witness such a history-making sight ! 

The townsfolk mobbed us. They cheered us and 
hugged us and called down blessings on our heads. 
Someone took pity on us and showed us the way 



The Flower of France 235 

to an inn — ^a rambling white shallet with a big 
American flag hung from its windows. At the 
gate, the innkeeper and his plump little wife were 
awaiting us with open arms. They asked us if we 
would consent to eat ''poullet/' Consent! We 
would have devoured birch bark with a relish had 
it been cooked the way Madame Mousequet could 
cook ! 

I have never tasted such chicken or such pota- 
toes. And while we ate and drank the little lady 
fluttered about us, hoping, in voluble French, that 
everything suited **the dear officers from the 
United States." 

They would not take a cent of pay for the feast. 
It was, they assured us, ''une grande Jionneur,'^ 
Over and over they insisted that we must not think 
of spoiling their pleasure by having money pass 
between us. What can you do with people like 
that? 

That night we went to a little cinema theater. 
When the lights were turned up and the audience 
caught sight of us, they rose in a body and cheered 
us. In one of the boxes were a group of French 



236 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

officers and their wives. One of the officers hur- 
ried aroTind to where we were sitting. 

**Yoii must place yourself where all the people 
may see you, ' ' he insisted. There was no refusing 
him. He was like a child, bubbling over with joy 
at having us there. 

*^Come," he pleaded, **Iet me seat you so that 
all may see." 

We followed meekly. The ladies in the box 
were awaiting us eagerly. They welcomed us with 
outstretched hands. And as I looked at those 
people who had been through two grilling years 
of war, I thanked God I came from a country that 
had taken up arms against a beast who was trying 
to -crush the red poppies beneath his heel. 

It was hard to get leave to go up to Paris. Sail- 
ings were uncertain and special permission had to 
be obtained, but I made up my mind I'd go. Gen- 
eral Pershing was to be there for the Fourth of 
July celebration at the tomb of Lafayette. I knew 
that would be a never-to-be-forgotten sight. 

I was right. It was a glorious morning and the 
thrill of the day was in the air— crowds every- 



The Flower of France 237 



where — sky blue and navy blue uniforms rubbing 
shoulders with the khaki of our own boys. 
Women, many of them in black, hurrying — ^hurry- 
ing toward the spot where the great Commander- 
in-Chief of the American Expeditionary Forces 
could be seen. 

' ' Pershing ! ' ' Everywhere you heard his name 
and an under-current of eager whispers as to 
whether there would be a chance to see him or not. 

The Fourth of July ! Paris ! And our General, 
the idol of the hour ! I tell you it thrilled me clear 
down to my heels! 

We navy men were let through the crowd and 
we were able to view the ceremony at close range. 
I have never heard such cheering in my life ! It 
was Paris' first opportunity to hear our General 
speak, and he spoke so simply — so quietly — ^in the 
face of that great ovation that there was not one 
among us who could doubt his ability to lead our 
men as they had never before been led. 

There were to be fireworks that night in honor 
of our presence — concerts and speeches and danc- 
ing. Oh, France was showing us that she was glad 



238 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

we had come, but how glad we were to be there she 
can never guess ! 

I drifted idly with the crowd. I wandered do^Ti 
to the big station — ^the Gare de LyoTis. "What took 
me there I scarcely know. Fate, I suppose, be- 
cause there were a thousand and one places I 
might have gone instead. 

The station was full of a bustling mob — ^uni- 
forms — ^uniforms everywhere. A train load of 
soldiers had just arrived on leave from the Front. 
That was a sight for you, as their eager eyes 
lighted on some loved one's face! I tell you, it 
kept your heart jumping in your throat to see 
them. Some of them were so white and worn and 
haggard. Most of them bronzed and wiry, a bit 
grimy from the long train trip, with uniforms 
faded and sometimes torn. But weariness and 
dirt and tears could not hide the spirit that shone 
in their eyes as they clasped their wife and little 
ones to them. 

A young artillery officer came toward me. He 
was a handsome man with a bit of a swagger in 
spite of his limp. I saw his eyes roving the crowd 



The Flower of France 239 

restlessly i^ search of someone. Suddenly he 
caught sight of me. 

"Ah! An American! What joy! Vive 
L^Ameriquef he shouted. 

I thanked him. I told him my name and he told 
me his. It was Louis du Frere, and he lived at 
Faubourg St. Germain. He was just back from 
the trenches on a precious leave of seven days. 
"Wounded? He shrugged. But, yes, fifteen times 
so far, and what of that f 

I stared at him. Wounded fifteen times and yet 
eager to go back! Spirit of France, you are in- 
domitable ! 

He excused himself as he scanned the crowd. 
His sister was to meet him. She was there some- 
where. She never failed him. Ah, yes ! He had 
found her. . . . 

I turned to see a little black-clad figure rush 
into his arms and cling to him as though she could 
never let him go. He spoke to her gently. 

"Angele," he said, 'Hhis gentleman is a great 
officer of the American navy. Tell him how glad 
you are to welcome him to France." 



240 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

At that she whirled and since then I have never 
been able to see a red poppy without thinking of 
her. I don't remember what I said in my very 
limited French, but her brother broke in to explain 
that she had lost her young husband at the battle 
of the Marne and he ended up by announcing to 
her that I was going to spend the rest of my lib- 
erty as their guest. 

I tried to protest, to insist that I had no inten- 
tion of thrusting my presence upon them for 
eleven days. But he took my refusal with the air 
of a hurt child and when Angele joined her pleas 
with his, I succumbed. I let du Frere hail a cab 
and we all piled in. I gathered up my few pos- 
sessions at the hotel and climbed aboard again, 
and we rumbled through the streets of Paris to- 
ward St. Germain, Angele clinging to her broth- 
er's arm and listening mth a wrapt look on her 
face to his gay comments on trench life. 

I thought I must be dreaming it all. It was so 
like the scene of a play — Paris slipping away from 
us, as we rattled across a long bridge, the open 
country becoming greener and leafier every in- 



E-E-E-YAH-YI 
GO OVER WI 
US MARINES 




The Flower of France 241 

stant — the gay voice of the young officer, the eager 
questions of our little old driver, and the poppy- 
like girl, with lips parted, drinking in breathlessly 
every word her brother uttered. 

"We stopped before a tiny house, shaded by tall 
trees. I saw, gathered before it, a little knot of 
people, shading their eyes for a glimpse of the 
returning hero. 

They pounced upon him, men, women, and 
children — all his neighbors, who had awaited his 
home coming for heaven only knows how many 
hours. They shouted their welcome to him, each 
of them clasping him for a minute and claiming 
his full attention. 

Angele stood looking on, the tears rolling down 
her cheeks, even while her lips smiled. 

''They love him so," she said softly, as though 
to explain it, *'he is so brave!" 

I think he was, to face that mob. 

They followed him in. The table was spread 
with every sort of delicacy. Each one of them 
had contributed something choice — some dish of 
which he was especially fond. He exclaimed over 



242 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

it all rapturously. He left nothing to be desired in 
his eager enthusiasm. 

They gave him no time to rest. They poured a 
torrent of questions upon him. Questions about 
their own brothers and husbands and lovers — 
questions concerning warfare — trench life — ^bat- 
tles in which he had fought. And he told them all 
he knew until at length Angele scolded them 
tenderly and bore him off. Then it was that they 
turned upon me as the second best object of in- 
terest. 

Never in a lifetime could I answer all that they 
asked of me. What did our country hope to do? 
How many men could she send across at 
once? How long did she think the war would 
last? 

I tell you I was glad to see Angele and Louis 
reappear and to follow them to the feast. I was 
placed at Angele 's right hand — the guest of honor 
— I sat down with a sigh of relief as I saw the 
tempting spread. Sat down! We were never 
down more than an instant before someone would 
leap up and propose a standing toast to Pershing 



The Flower of France 243 

and to Jofce, to President Wilson and to Presi- 
dent Poincaire, to myself, to my navy, to my coun- 
try! 

And the Marseillaise ! How they did sing that ! 
three and fonr times, shonting the chorns nntil 
the rafters shook! 

Then Louis pounded on the table for order. 

**The American officer will now sing his Na- 
tional Anthem," he announced. 

There was instant silence, then encouraging ap- 
plause, then silence. 

"But yes, you will sing it," urged Angele, see- 
ing my panic. 

Now, in the first place, I cannot carry a tune 
and in the second place I knew just one verse of 
the ''Star Spangled Banner"— and I was not over 
sure of that one! 

I have never felt a shame equal to mine as I 
struggled desperately through the first verse of 
my country's song! They applauded madly. I 
might have been Caruso to judge from the racket 
they made. 

But Louis was not satisfied. 



244 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

^* Permit me also to sing it for you," he said, 
and sing it he did — all three verses of it, — with a 
ring to his voice that thrilled me and held me 
spellbound. I asked him where he had learned it. 
It seems, he modestly explained, an American am- 
bulance driver had employed his time in the 
trenches teaching it to him. 

After supper we danced to the music of a string 
band. But Louis sat in a corner, surrounded by a 
group of older men and I could see they were in 
earnest, thrashing out the latest developments at 
the Front. That gave me a chance with Angele — 
or rather — half a chance, because her every 
thought was with her brother. 

*^He is all the world to me," she said. 

She watched over him in spite of himself and 
when she concluded he must be tired, she whis- 
pered it to his friends and they began, one by 
one, to leave, in spite of his protests. He went 
with them to the door, shouting, waving, kissing 
his hand. When he came back to us he did look 
a bit done up. 

*'Ali, Angele, it is good to be at home," he said, 



The Flower of France 245 



and then, as though fearing that might seem a con- 
fession of weakness, he hastened to add, '*for a 
little time!" 

We spent six wonderfully lazy days in the heart 
of summer. It was there that I came to know the 
poppies which were so like Angele, so radiant, so . 
graceful — so lovely. I told her once that she pnt 
me in mind of them. 

''I am glad," she replied, *^ because I, too, love 
them. ' ' 

My leave was not up for eleven days all told, 
and Louis had persuaded me to stay on at the little 
cottage after his return to duty. I did not need 
much persuading. It seemed as though I could 
never tear myself away from that tiny house 
shaded by tall trees. 

The night before he left I don't think any of us 
slept a wink. The neighbors arrived, laden with 
all sorts of dainties — cakes and bread they had 
made for him to take back. They brought pack- 
ages for their own boys, too, that he cheerfully 
promised to distribute. The^^ gave him letters 
and a thousand messages, which he repeated 



246 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

painstakingly after them. He was so gentle with 
them, so eager to do as they asked. 

He was particularly pleased over a little bunch 
of wild flowers a tiny girl had gathered for him, 
the flowers were drooping and faded from being 
clasped in her hot little hand, but he told her again 
and again how much he loved them, until her little 
cheeks glowed pink with joy and her eyes shone 
like stars. 

After they had gone, I stole away and left An- 
gele alone with him. They sat in the open door- 
way, her cheek against his arm, her hand in his. 
She was not sad, there was a happy, busy note in 
her voice as she chatted to him. 

Before he climbed the stairs to bed, he sought 
me. I was smoking and thinking, on a little bencl; 
beneath the trees. Louis sat beside me and laid 
his hand on my knee. 

**Well, my friend, I leave before you. For a 
little while we part, is it not so? — then, God will- 
ing, we meet again. ' ' 

I tried to tell him what my visit had meant to 
me. What a place France and her people would 



The Flower of France 247 



for ever more occupy in my heart. All those 
things I struggled to say, but when it comes to 
expressing that which lies close to our heart, I find 
we are a halting, tongue-tied nation ! 

Then I spoke of Angele. I wanted him to know 
before he left how much I cared for her. I was 
afraid he might be displeased, but, instead, he 
pumped my hand with joy. 

^^This is American fashion," he laughed, then 
he leaned over and kissed my cheek. ' ' Since you 
love a French girl you will have to get used to her 
brother 's greeting, ' ' he said. 

I told him I had not spoken to Angele. I had 
not dared to. I could not hope she would care 
for me. 

**But you must speak to-night, before I go," he 
shouted. ^^Let me prepare her first. Oh, but this 
is of a great happiness to me ! " 

And before I could stop him, he hurried away. 

After a long silence, while my heart thumped 
against my ribs and I felt myself growing hot and 
cold by turns, his voice sounded through the dark- 
ness. 



248 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 

**Coine here, my friend, and see what yon can 
do to make this child change her mind." 

I ran toward him. I saw the flash of Angele's 
white gown, bnt when I reached her side, Louis 
had gone. She awaited me. Somehow she looked 
like the poppies at twilight, when their petals are 
folded. . . . 

We were there together so long, that at length 
Louis' voice broke in upon us and startled us. 
He shouted that he must leave in six hours — that 
a brother returning to the Front had some claim 
upon his sister's time. Angele flew to his side, 
begging him to forgive her selfishness, but he 
pinched her cheek and laughed at her, brimming 
over with happiness at the romance for which he 
claimed he was responsible. 

*^But you must not take her away until after 
the war," he pleaded. "I want her here to greet 
me when I come home. I am a selfish brute, I 
know, but I would have nothing to return to if my 
little sister were gone." 

I promised him. I would have promised any- 
thing that night I was so happy. It did not seem, 



The Flower of France 249 



as I stood in that quiet, leafy garden, with An- 
gele 's hand in mine, that there could be pain and 
anguish in the world — that cannons could be roar- 
ing and star shells bursting less than a hundred 
miles away! 

Louis left at daybreak. We drove to Paris with 
him and to the station. It was a gay morning with 
a red sun rolling up from the east. 

Angele was all smiles and animation, full of 
eager plans for his next leave. She submitted to 
his teasing with a laugh, but, for all that, her eyes 
looked as though they held a world of unshed 
tears, and I saw her, once or twice, press her lips 
together as though to choke back the sobs. 

The station was full of men returning to the 
Front. They called eagerly to one another — they 
compared packages, and boasted of the good times 
they had had. Louis caught my hand and wrung 
it. Then he laid Angele 's in it. 

' * She is all I have, ' ' he said ; " it is fitting I leave 
her in the care of our beloved ally. ' ' 

He kissed her and teased her about capturing an 
American in seven days, saluted us smartly and 



250 Over the Seas for Uncle Sam 



stalked through the great gate, turning to wave 
and smile and kiss his hand. 

I never felt such a sense of loss in my life. It 
seemed as though the sun had gone out of the day. 

**I cannot bear it," Angele whispered, so I took 
her away. 

We spent the few remaining days of my leave 
planning our life after the war. She will not 
marry me until then. She and Louis are coming 
to the States to live and we three are to be as 
happy as the days are long. We will be, too. I 
know it. 

I have been across seven times since and I have 
seen her four of those times in the past year. If 
there is any nian on earth who wants this war to 
end it is I — ^and the reason is a certain flower-like 
girl in France. Good Lord ! you don't know what 
waiting for her means ! 

We've got to finish those Germans quickly and 
thoroughly so that Louis and Angele and I can 
set sail for America. If that is not a reason for 
ending this war, find me a better one ! 

THE END 



WHERE THE SOULS 

OF MEN ARE 

CALLING 

The first big love story to come out of the war 
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A WONDERFUL BOOK OF INSPIRATION 

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1 8 Intimate Pictures 

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Britton Publishing Company New York 



A , T H O U S A N D 
WAYS TO PLEASE 
A HUSBAND 

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UNCLE BILL'S LET- 
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H 45 89 



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